kaizen - hakuouki 薄桜鬼
by Hiraethhomes
Summary: - "living amongst the Shinsengumi has never been more dangerous." I can't reach Okita Souji. Not when he's slipping away, only leaving a soft blur in the distance, followed by my wallowing arid tears creating fallacies of distortion. Away, away. When it seems so far away, to a point when I feel utterly hopeless, why do I feel his alluring breath mingle close, beneath my skin?
1. I Gateway to the mind

_3rd P.O.V_

 _\- 13th December, 1867_

"Hehhh... What an awful night."

Heisuke hadn't had a drop of liquor since the departure from the campsite at Kodai-ji, which led to his rather unfortunate mental scrutiny. Prior to that particular evening, he was indeed grovelling to his fellow Goryo-Eji companions, and complaining about some mysterious hip-cramps, yet they offered only a sidelong glance in retort. He decided to shift the conversation.

" I bet there's going to be rain, tonight." Heisuke gingerly attempted to switch up the conversion to whatever popped up in his sporadic mind, as only a grunt was perceived to his ears. Along with, the clinks and clatters of compact armour and gear in the dead silence of the enshrouded night. Heisuke glanced tediously in the fellow's direction, offering a blank look.

"Oh," was the response.

The emptiness in the vacuous voice had startled Heisuke to the point he'd flittered a look again in his stoic partner's direction, albeit the fact it only left him with a plunging sensation gnawing at his mind. Returning back to his own pace of footwork, he resumed his steady trek.

Oh - it was the only thing, Heisuke himself could really say, too. In all honesty, he wasn't used to this callous treatment, unlike the reception back at Nishi Hongan-ji. How did it make him feel? Why did it make him feel a certain way? In a sense, he felt infantile, as a variety of large words popped up in his aggravated thought track: babied, cajoled, coddled, agitated. ANYTHING.

Like a child, being dismissed.

It was enough for Heisuke to back down completely, shrinking into his own space. Was there anything to be said?

In fact, in further inspection, there really wasn't anything Heisuke could comment or remark on. The isolation he felt constantly devouring his insides as well as his overriding brain was enough to make him grit his teeth in frustration; as Guards of the Tomb, wasn't companionship something cherished? Valued, in a vague sense?

He plodded onwards racking his brain whilst yanking at his tassels in further insight to the evening, glancing upwards tediously as he clicked his angular jaw. Sure enough the position of the agonisingly crawling moon hadn't changed not a single bit from his last observation, for only the radiance of the dwindling lunar rock continued to shine despite all evidences of Heisuke's mood falling downhill.

A simple pit stop, left Heisuke buzzing.

He raked an armour plated palm into the crevices of his knotted hair, unwinding the bristles of his tousled chestnut hair with a severe expression. All throughout the journey he'd noticed rather subliminal messages such as the way many of the night's banners, familiar slogans of inns, housing residences, stores, restaurants, anything his accentuated eyes could track! All.. All of them...

They triggered his mindset, and lulled him to the past. What past? It was only a few months ago, following the path of the lunar calendar; it had been so long... since his departure from the ruthless Shinsengumi. It was absolutely absurd in his mind feeling such heart wrenching guilt; he'd bid his farewells and his " _mata ne_ " goodbyes. They were saddening, but it was a fitting exit for both him, and his mutual Hajime Saito.

And yet, he found himself reminiscing. Why, exactly? In his mind, his heart... his resolve! He had nothing to offer his overworked mind which exerted paranoid thoughts: why had they returned to this particular ward of Kyoto? This particular prefecture?

It was, according to Itō, his superior and mentor, a humble meeting with his former commander Isami Kondou, to his secret residence in Samegai. No other content was given. A secret. That fact alone, left Heisuke rather skeptical even for his own hapless self; in his dour mind it was hard to fathom the fact Kondou was being rather secretive on this occasion; was it Hijikata offering the concept of secrecy? In reality, Heisuke was rather fearful of encountering Kondou once more; he'd hoped for two things, the first being that Kondou had enough decency to respect Heisuke's leave, but also... maybe to try to convince Heisuke just to come back for a bit?

Heisuke wasn't sure these days what to think, much less grasp any thoughts on his previous bosses' perspectives. He wasn't even sure what he wanted.

But he felt the minuscule breaths he once took, which resembled of _home_. It wasn't something to be savoured for too long, as he attempted to dismiss all other lurking temptations to turn his head over his shoulder; for a strangely desired sense of comfort, he reached for his kodachi. Pursing his tight lips, he pressed his juvenile yet sturdy straight shoulders against the wall behind him, regaining a rather gloomy expression.

Yet, he was abruptly reeled into reality, steeling his jaw as he absorbed his surroundings. He had a knack of patting down his curly dark bangs over his forehead, grazing his lash-rimmed eyes.

His glimmering lenses were strained on the distance which was littered with the trail of fellow Goryo-Eji Guards, all compact in their rows. However, the guide at the front clad with an oiled chonmage, had taken a baffling standstill. This proceeded for another second, as Heisuke was left in an rather uncomfortable air of silence.

True to his word, the guide belonging to the Shinsengumi had prior kept to his solemn promise of leading the group into the depths of Kondou's den, which had led them on a solid embark for a full 30 minutes. Heisuke, who was rather fixated on his own grovelling thoughts, hadn't taken much to the fellow's appearance and garbs; the uniform of a regular soldier, as well as their startling height had awfully reminded Heisuke just how juxtaposing the Shinsengumi, and Guards really were.

 _But then again_... - His brow was sharply harrowed done as he blurred out the ongoing events laid hereafter, as his position was situated at the rear of the platoon. He zoned out, his turquoise eyes suddenly delved into a murky hue.

Again, he whispered to oneself and no one particular, a dreary expression which, to the foreign eye, seemed rather wistful.

Shinsengumi, and the Guard ...

Kondou, and Itô ...

"None of it really matters..." it was as if by the spur of the exact moment Heisuke had enunciated the dull phrase which reverberated in the dusk of the brewing evening, he was overwhelmed by the sensation his partner had jerked to the side simultaneously, eyes seemingly bulging out of their sockets. Scared stiff, and he could virtually _feel_ this change in motion.

"Oh-?" Finally an emotion twinged upon the facade of Heisuke's diligent comrade, despite the fact it felt _wrong_. Terrible, terrible distraught etched upon the man's dewy features elucidated by the moon's enthralling iridescent grasps, as he rapidly turned to Heisuke.

Alas... his eyes did not follow hereafter, nor were they laid upon Heisuke. In fact the jolted man, who was consumed with a wretched expression and clamped jaw, had raised both arms to brush them against Heisuke's shoulders to the point it made the lad topple over in an hurried array. Much to his astonishment Heisuke was swept off his feet from the tremendous force, landing with a searing pain inflicted on his rear.

"ACH! AIIII..." he cursed on numerous occasions under his breath whilst barely perceiving his surroundings; indeed for a splitsecond he rather felt infuriated and at a loss of words for such an aggressive approach. What on earth was going through his partner's mind? Heisuke was just about to incline with his lips forming a borderline-snarl, until he felt his heart immediately plunge.

And there, as the atmosphere was gradually filled with a completely foreign tension Heisuke had only experienced back at the Ikedaya Incident, he was caught off guard by the flirting expression of the paled man slowly crumple with a bleary countenance.

From that point did the figure's head flop down onto the ground with a morbid squelch, which was enough for Heisuke to completely shut down his primal senses. Acute vision harrowed down at the thick crimson pool encircling the decapitated corpse that fell to the ground with a lifeless thud, Heisuke's facial expressions were scrunched up indefinite horror.

 _He saved me. He... saved me._

Bewildered, Heisuke had completely closed off the possibility that this was happening to his surroundings. He envisioned the distant cries of impeding battle, clattering, banging, twinging hissing blades, to be but a mere fallacy. In its stead, he could only think one thing.

 _I was about to be beheaded... yet he saved me._

Heisuke's trained eyes threatened to bulge as they refused to shut, nor could he even begin to speak; the words he'd wanted to emulate prior to the horrendous scene of finding his partner dead before his eyes had vanished. All he was left to work with, was his parched throat scorching with incoherent jumbles.

"O-Oi... W-What... H-Hey...?" Heisuke whimpered as a reoccurring dreadful thought never ceased to pop to and fro his mind, until he begun attempting to hobble back up to his feet, although it was easier said than done. It had appeared that they had collapsed upon himself, hereafter leaving him as a collateral mess on the ground clad with the heavy sets of heaving armour.

Just then, it came apparent how the wafted copper brews had startlingly managed to lift under his nostrils, causing him to gag relentlessly. He covered his mouth with the back of his smooth palm. He couldn't stay there, nor could he press himself to keep going. After all... with the humiliating defeat at Ikedaya still looming in his mind, how would he mend his tarnished pride?

"... Damnit!" Dismissing the possible life forms hovered above him as he began pounding his inner palm deeper and deeper into his forehead with enough force to thud and rattle his brain, he attempted to unwind the tight knot wound around his head which strengthened his forehead protector. Firmly, he rooted the phrase " _Keep alive at all costs! Don't fight_!", which awfully reminded him of Sanosuke's heeding caution before his departure.

Again, there was an unintelligible scuffle of padded sandals that seemed to loom closer and closer towards Heisuke's spot, which sent a flurry of nerves cascading down his spine. He knew fully of the consequences of his sudden fleet of fear trembling down his spine, yet he held no firm reasons for his wavering lip. In any case, he was just about to shrink further into his wallowing despairs before jolting in surprise at the phantom visage of a foreign face; the guide!

He hadn't noticed the stream of bodies which were laid in set rows as far as the Guard's Company had started from; Heisuke couldn't comprehend in his bleak mind, how a human could easily cut through a force of skilled men in such a primeval manner. They were all respectably held at a high status, hailing from Itô's school of style.

He was just about to incline with his brow furrowed to form a face of enquiry, before he stopped dead in his tracks. Slowly, carefully and surely his paranoid eyes had instantaneously picked out the hovering palm which reached for its scabbard, vehemently unleashing a discord of metallic CLANKS of their kodachi.

 _Move, move! Move damnit_! - Within seconds Heisuke had glimpsed just how much of a damned scenario things had turned out to be, as he froze up. No matter how hard he kept _screaming_ at himself to budge, he refused to evade those same agonising memories back at the Inn, where he was caught with those crippling injuries that left him unable to work for months.

 _Padded footsteps embarking to their demise... ever increasing pace as they followed up the stairs, to meet their maker._

And there, staring dead in the eyes of a more sagacious, but certainly ludicrous member of the Shinsengumi, was enough for Heisuke's shoulders to chatter in a riled manner. There wasn't time to appreciate the glimmer of the seeping blade radiating the translucent glimmers of moonlight; there wasn't time for Heisuke to even begin regretting to turn a blind eye to resenting Shinsengumi.

There wasn't any time... for Heisuke to-

"HIYAAAHHHHHH!" Onwards, led the battle cry of his former Shinsengumi subordinate.

"Mmph..." Heisuke shied away using the crook of his elbow to bury his face in a meek attempt to evade the impact, with hinted desperation.

"HEISUKE!"

In a flash, all noises were blocked out.

When Heisuke had finally approved of his curious intuition, he managed to sneak a peek upwards with a heated face from the sheer intensity of the encounter. But alas! He was completely astonished by the counterattack led against the Shinsengumi's tremendous blow; what sort of stranger would be able to completely fend off a direct attack aimed for Heisuke?

Internally at the moment's bliss for surviving the blow unscathed, he jerked his head upwards in order to spy his saviour; his pleasure was outlived. For, only the fullest concentration was delivered to his Shinsengumi saviour. In that pitiful night, the fluttering Shinsengumi Blue's as well as the cluttered hakama, proved to Heisuke just how extreme the situation had become.

A Shinsengumi... protecting him from a Shinsengumi?

The individual had taken the brunt of the lethal blow with their own bare _hands_ , both limbs encasing the sword's edge in an almost prayer-like gesture above their head. To Heisuke, this seemed utterly preposterous of an idea! What sort of blithering _idiot_ would counterattack the direct blow by using their own hands, with the possibility that the blade would slice freely right through them?

The figure, to his surprise, kept an intent gaze fiercely over their shoulder. To Heisuke.

The stare was enough for him to comprehend their implicit tranquility.

It had appeared that Heisuke's nimble frame had caused a sort of, scowling feature upon the new Shinsengumi saviour, their brooding expression accentuated by the sharpness of their eyebrows. The coolness of the gaze, had almost reminded Heisuke of just... of just how reckless he was. Just how... just how foolish, he'd been laying flat on the ground awaiting his searing fate. How could he understand this despite the muteness of the solider?

"H-Huh..." he was left profoundly breathless as his chest was elevated and sunken with every painful breath, arms outstretched to his sides as he followed every splotch of blood derived from his saviour's trembling hands. What made matters worse, was that just as Heisuke was attempting to bring his feet, he'd just caught glimpse of the figure's unruly hazel hair that twinged in his mind; it brought upon a memory he wasn't sure he'd completely forgotten, nor could he partially remember.

The silent saviour proceeded to land a mute round-kick into the side of the Shinsengumi guide, leaving their own brethren handicapped as they crumpled willingly across the ground. Again, the guide hadn't uttered a cry of despair, which was a shock.

The posture, as well as the smoothly defined kick was enough for Heisuke to wince, especially since the move had left the audible sound of bone crunching.

"I... I know you..." Heisuke started with a skeptical expression as he gasped at the events laid hereafter. His fated saviour's sculptured cheekbones which boomed of higher prosperity, their bangs which loomed deadly close over their eyes yet never babied the deadly leer in their watchful stare. Their arched back which was globed in its own remarkable manner, as well as their slender legs which took tremendous steps-

And fled, before their consequences would soon catch up with their actions.

"WAIT! WAIT! PLEASE!" Heisuke cried as he yanked himself back to his feet, tip toed out of the carnage of the scene which had brought him back to reality; why had he lost focus all of a sudden? Nonetheless he brought about a determined expression, still a tad off-course by the fact that most comrades of the Guard, were all dead around him. Lifeless, wretched decomposing corpses which strangely enough held no meaning to him.

Heisuke was unsure for a second, he gnawed at his lower lip in agitation. He couldn't just stand there and patiently await Itô, since his own Company had taken a sharp split precisely an hour ago from the secondary formation; he still couldn't comprehend the trauma within him, or the way the Shinsengumi Guide had turned on him- _them._

The atmosphere was riddled with curiosity as well as insane ridicule, so much so it could just as well throttle you with its sworn secrecy. Heisuke, pledging to himself to seek the specific person who had saved him beforehand, felt the trepidation of his hammering heart, as he clutched his robes in a bundle, just above his heart.

 _A friend, a friend, is who saved him._

That reason alone, was enough to drive his slacking heels into a full on sprint, in the direction of the rustling Shinsengumi Haori.

➰ _\- 5 minutes later._

Heisuke's sight momentarily was strained gazing into the dusky landscape strewn around his circumspect; often he pondered of taking a sneaky gander around the nearest corner before frantically trotting off in forceful complacency.

No! He couldn't afford to wander off and procrastinate on such an imperative occasion, nor could he begin ambling in such an idle manner whilst peeking into the shutters of the closed-up market stalls in the dead of night. Oh why, oh why did she choose to run off on such a dismal night?

As he continued to ponder, whilst gritting his clattering chiffon teeth in earnest displays of vain warmth gathering, he picked up his slacked heels to brush against the soles vigorously.

He knew fully in his heart, that the one who'd jumped into the brawl, was her.

Who?

"Isamu Chikasa..." Heisuke exhaled as he paused for a second, whilst drifting his body around the sharp corner. Dismissing the entirety of the scene including the barrage of sealed barrels, banisters rolled up into neat stacks, pens with empty contents, as well as a lonely individual digging their sandals into the dirt with a slumped posture. No doubt, in Heisuke's peering irises, was that anyone else.

To the lad, he found it rather difficult to approach the usually jovial figure that was stalking down the desolate street in her wake; Heisuke had a tendancy to keep the opposing gender at a remarkable distance until he felt his cheeks finally regaining their normal texture. Alas, he felt the situation far more complex than trivial means of interaction, thus he took his strides to catch up to her in no time.

Heisuke was a proud lad - in fact, you might commend on him being an official adult, finally at 21. In the years gone past he was rather lanky though inevitably short for his age, often commenting on how his "time" was somewhere near in the future. Fast forwarding to now, 2 years later, Heisuke's height exceeded that of his Saviour - "Isamu Chikasa."

"... I... I find it a bit strange you're here Chikasa, but," Heisuke breathlessly paused between a thoughtful chuckle as he raised his voice, "thank you, for saving me!"

There wasn't a single response nor a flick of surprise, as only the audible steady pounding of their sandals echoed throughout the straggly gust of the night. Heisuke was a bit intrigued at first as to why her extraordinary face was burrowed in a deep sullen expression, as he tilted his body to scan her face closer. It was a rather adorable display, coming from Heisuke.

"Are you okay, Chikasa? O-Oi.. let's get your hands all cleaned up..." Heisuke was sure enough at this point she'd immediately brush him off by stating her status was 'perfectly fine' and normal. But as his heart became quite wobbly as he scooped her hands, he felt the tinge of the sub-zero temperature engulf his own flushed fingertips.

Covered in a scarlet fluid which tricked down her inanimate hands, Heisuke had plucked at the courage to bundle them together with his own, blowing at them in a vain attempt to heat them up. Funny enough it only accentuated his own heated cheeks, sucking them inwards before he began to speak (Ignoring his own heart ready to burst out of its chest in fluent embarrassment).

"I just... I was a bit scared... that's why I was on the ground. My partner pushed me at the nick of time before the blade reached me... I just, I can't..." Heisuke trailed off with his knitted brow as he pondered deeper at her blemishes which covered the surface of her bony hands, the flutter in his heart causing him to tentatively smile. "I think, when I saw the Shinsengumi Blues... I kinda got a bit nostalgic for a second, you know?"

Heisuke found his nattering to be a bit boring (who could possibly care for his busy chatter?) , as he restricted himself for a wavering moment. Observing the deep crevices in her empty hands, he brushed over the stained fingers with his quirked thumbs, rubbing the excess fluids down his kimono. As they proceeded to meander in whatever direction suited best, Heisuke gave her a lop-sided smile.

"I think it's clean now, isn't it? I mean... my attire is a bit grimy now, but that's okay!" Heisuke paused to comically glance down at the splotches of blood over his Goryo-Eji kimono, as well as the tainted crest which bore his Master's logo. He shrugged, tightening his jaw. "I think I've made up my mind; even if you're a capable woman, you're also a bit too reckless. I see myself in that, which is why... I'm taking you back."

Heisuke's resolve was already made up, as his chest swelled with pride.

Maybe there wasn't a reason believable enough to follow, nor was there any leaders to follow after the deeply traumatic experience he'd just underwent. However, as of then, Heisuke was sure that in the situation alone, it would be best to protect the two of them; deep in his heart, Heisuke was sure she'd do the same for him... right? Because, they were friends.

Despite this change in demeanour, he was taken completely by surprise when the female quaked for a moment, whispering coldly with her titled shoulders caving inwards on her body. It was the first time she spoke. "I wasn't supposed to be there... I just, wanted to carry on in Okita Captain's stead. He's... He's..."

 _She's his subordinate, right_? - Heisuke wasn't a fool to dissuade this, although there was another thought which stirred in his mind whilst gazing at her nonchalant visage. _Where was Souji? Was he somewhere nearby?_

Nonsense!

The pitiful expression engulfing her countenance proved more fragile than ever before. He was afraid it would shatter right before him, leaving him in the aftermath of shards unable to piece themselves back, bit by bit.

Heisuke had parried with her in the past and acknowledged the fact her swordplay was in a sense, _clumsy_. He'd conversed with her on many occasions though he hadn't actually gotten to know her very well, but it was apparent she was, _passionate._ If someone, in Heisuke's mind, was so... unbearably callous, calculative, and apathetic, it made Heisuke shiver. The similarities in the hardship of both their lives proved all too similar; the life of a female foot soldier undercover, and the life of a torn once-captain.

And he was sure, that he'd earnestly missed her tender smile. Perhaps it was something irrelevant, or something small and significant. But he believed in those moments, it would uplift the melancholy he felt swallow him whole.

The slur in their movement was evident, as they snaked their way through a narrow alleyway. Heisuke, whom appeared quite boastful, had remarked on how he'd known the minuscule passageways of the city like "the back of his hand". All the while he was patiently awaiting for Chikasa's own trudging footsteps to follow after his own body, as he fitted himself into the tight area.

She willingly trailed behind him, yet created a shrill noise of discomfort when her nose was pressed in an upheaval, against his broad back. For a splitsecond she murmured softly under her breath, questioning Heisuke's sudden pause in the journey. She peered over his shoulder with a look of distinct condensation.

They were a little... flabbergasted at first. It was a natural imminent response to finding the dingy alleyway blocked off, and finding it ever so remotely passable. Amidst the empty vessels of crates, odd mesh wired caskets specifically designed to carry crustaceans, rusty harpoons and unraveled chocks of rope, lied silhouettes of unnamed animate objects which were strewn across the floor. They covered the entirety of the surface area, for only they gazed upon in profound observation.

They swarmed, jiggled and appeared to be gliding across the gravel in a smooth fashion. As the duo could only gape in sheer bewilderment to the appearance of the dark-dwelling creatures hobbling down on the ground, they could barely perceive the features until the moon had found its way peeping over the secreted passage; their undeniably animalistic snouts which snuffed at the ground in a display caused Heisuke to find absolutely fucking hilarious. He began to ridicule the feigns, sticking his finger at them.

"For a second," he started with a snigger, "I was quite shocked! SCARED, even! But Chikasa, I'll kill these street-runts! I'm not scared anymore!" At this point Heisuke had raised his almighty leg over his head, to ward off and intimidate the young sows.

 _Street pigs_ \- Chikasa internally noted which was evident by her frank expression, scrunching it up as she began racking her memory. Was it even possible to come across a herd of roaming piglets out in the cold of a late December night? In any case, why did they appear easygoi-

"AAAIIIIII!" Heisuke cried aloud as he took a large step back, cursing cursing and cursing on numerous occasions when he felt the scalding flames dance around his wriggly toes. This caused Chikasa to peek over Heisuke's shoulder, witnessing the impressive feat of the piglets breathing the flames in a set row. Only at that point once it was processed in her mind, she deemed it completely abnormal, tugging Heisuke back by the elbow in an attempt to keep him at bay.

"T-They... B-B-Breathe... B-B-Breathe," Heisuke, startled out of his wits, had craned his neck down into his body in fright as he stammered. Surely, this was all... a trick? A trick? Before he shaped his quivering lips to speak, whilst he hastily shook his head realising the sudden danger of the calamity, on a whim he grabbed ahold of Chikasa's hand speeding off out of the tiny alley.

"I'LL PROTECT YOU! COME ON! THIS IS ABSURD!" Heisuke uttered with a forlorn frown etched upon his disdained demeanour, he couldn't shake off the livid sensation that whatever was happening, was insane. Insane! Heisuke muttered to oneself as he paced himself with sharp breaths, tugging along the sluggish Chikasa. She thought he was being rather frivolous.

Once taking a gander over his shoulder, it became apparent that the mystic fire-wielding runts did not follow in hot pursuit, as they left the trail cold. This led to Heisuke slowing down a tad, unconsciously still gripping ahold of the woman's hand; he'd noticed how spaced out she'd been and how the only phrase she's enunciated was Okita Souji, thus leading him to assume she was not in the right mindset to take the lead.

"How about this small district..." Heisuke suggested as he rubbed his bleary eyes, taking heed due to the fact he hadn't blinked in ages. Following down a sturdy trail which led onwards into a more broader stretch of allies complied between two fanciful residences, Heisuke found himself peering down them in warded suspicion; again, in the solace of the moon below them, Heisuke was distraught to find another batch of dusty specks hobbling to and fro across the ground. The sooty oddballs were covered in a frosty layer of auburn bristles which hinted their mammal descendants, but Heisuke knew all too well of underestimating such controversial beings.

Sporting a frown, he murmured, "not this path," before attempting to find a more secluded spot which would lead them down the temple grounds back to the Shinsengumi's brand new HQ, Nishi Hongan-Ji. However it was at the imminent point he'd left the entrance of that particular alleyway, when he felt an ominous presence clawing at his back. In fact as time progressed, he relished in the daunting realisation there was a tremendous presence right behind him.

The brilliance of the abysmal aura left him raising his knees, picking up the pace furiously. Alas! He was caught in the nick of time in hot pursuit from his pursuers, as he dared to take a peek.

There, on the Main Street for all eyes to follow! Haphazard sooty swines began bounding in a maniacal frenzy after the dwindling couple, their bumbling causing the ground to quake in a turbulent terror. Jolted out of his wits, Heisuke attempted to dart into whatever alleyway suited best to evade the hobbling supernatural creatures, despite the fact he was surely denied that freedom. Whatever crevice he turned to for aid, it appeared there was an even larger stack of creatures waiting to pounce from their situated caliginous spots.

And thus, it was decided spontaneously that the best route would be to follow the Main Street, as their slacking heels instantly took speed. Never did they bring haste, even Chikasa according to Heisuke's attentive stare, was also rather acquiescent. The flight of their pursuit had almost an detrimental effect, since Heisuke was sadly out of breath before passing the next turn into the main's street's derived corner. At that point however, he was forced to stop in his tracks.

Swerving his legs until he regained a loose stance, he protectively brought himself in front of the dazed female, growling in retrospect. His murky orbs had caught something glimmering in the mist of the street, which caused his hair follicles to stand on their edges. Deliberately sheathing his wakizashi with a slow, steady and dissipating hiss, Heisuke was finally ready to face whatever lurked in the gloom.

Indeed, it was a marvelling sight for the duo to receive. Amongst the sounds of squeaky trotters against the gravel, or the snooty snuffles of moist nostrils against the ground, there ahead lie a distorted shadow, which was initially at a standstill, before proceeding to embark in an ambiguous saunter; why was the being approaching them? Where they about to offer sanction, or perhaps... reprimand?

But the presence was dastardly, it wasn't something regular on an eve's walk. It spoke of forthcoming bitterness, enshrouded resent and hatred that bore before the innocent eyes. And yet, it was only a casted shadow, nothing more, nothing less. You could almost dismiss the shadow as but a simple glare of the moonlight, or an illusion casted by the wafted fog.

Bloodlust. That sheer overriding sensation which tortured the brain, shrivels the heart and moral. The one which wields pure emotion and converts it into a powerful mechanism of primal instinct; to kill. Heisuke, knew all too well of this sensation; he was brought up with it, watched it stir amongst his comrades, and even pledged to overcome it one day.

Bloodlust. The aimless sought to kill.

The nerves of the young man were enough for him to retract gently, squeezing the muted woman for comfort. Although she was partially regaining conscious to the point she handed him a dim expression; neither realised that they were both holding their breath in agonisingly wreaked anticipation. Holding, holding.

"Don't get in our way!" Heisuke cautioned with an amplified tone that reached into the abysmal mist, echoing throughout. "Come out!"

A sharp, piercing metallic thunk continuously was driven against the floor. They were driven in repeated reps that didn't follow a specific rhythm, but all the while was in a consistent sluggish pattern. Clunk... clunk. To Heisuke, the owner of the noises far proceeded his expectations; as he strained his eyes into the edging hues of raven night, he envisioned the appearance of a set of blades all drawn against the ground: or large yari spears, longbows, an axe, sickle, scythe, clubs, or even trucheon! He could feel his startling word bank override before-

Taking a circumspect, the dismal duo was bestowed the rare appearance of the gloom-dweller. It became apparent that Heisuke's intuition was completely off by a milestone, for the weaponry snaked around the silhouette had glimmered with a viridescent glower in the atmosphere. Each curve was linked until it formed a necklace of a sort; iron chains wrapped around the figure. It was ear-deafening, the tremendous groans of the brass shackles scraping against the ground, jolting Heisuke on a whim.

"A certain person, whom I may not be inclined to name..." the wispy tone that erupted into the unsettling area was enough to bring a sense of loathing splattered across Chikasa's face; she was reawakened by the resemblance in the eery mutter, "would, call me... _bitch."_

Heisuke was forced to keep a stern facade, despite the fact he was dealt with million questions invading his mind. The voice's edge, depth of tone, pitch, as well as lack of sincerity had led Heisuke to assume they were a male, which was hardly an assumption, because who could possibly wield such a mass of iron bundled across their forearms, snaked across their wrists, and flung to their sides?

Heisuke evaded swiftly the uproar of hogs scuttling towards him with their mouths agape, jerking the back of his wakizashi's hilt against the incomers; successfully he had accomplished his goal of parrying away the almost-summoned creatures which latched to his calves. Luckily his legs were enveloped in tight onyx stockings which prevented him from the torch burns of the inferno's heat; alas he found it difficult also bringing Chikasa into safety. Despite that moment's instance of dread, he was almost relieved when the soldier drew her own sword out of its lamenting scabbard in a meticulous manner, she still wielded the same cautious, low eyes, wariness and furrowed brow as before.

"Chikasa!" Heisuke clamoured as he jerked his hips to the side, avoiding the brunt of an extremely temperamental boar striking to his hips. As he changed his footing, he reached outwards to grab her sword in mid-clutch, his intent glaze focused to her own chocolate brown orbs. "... trust me, I told you I'll keep us safe!"

Moments onwards he thrusted the half-drawn blade into his own grip, firmly casting it against the unlucky but familiar boar. Heisuke, whom appeared rather boisterous, was internally at ease by the use of two wakizashi; for a bleak moment he'd envision Chikasa's passionate resolve fluctuate into his own energy! Merging with their heated intent to conclude this night! Heisuke felt this greatly.

Meanwhile, the harsh soles of the shadow's sandals had rippled into the atmosphere once more. To Heisuke, he'd assume by their stance, that their appearance was more than a coincidence; perhaps relevant to the events that had just occurred with the Guards? Either way, he was oblivious when he felt a brutish force bustle itself in his direction, as he felt the coursing rivet of the wind alarm him at a moment's second.

THWAK!

Luckily, much to Heisuke's inner relief, the blow of the shadow's intertwining figure hadn't taken much of an impact on him. With closer inspection he was saved at a millisecond's whim by Chikasa's rapid thinking. She had applied herself between the shadow-dweller and Heisuke, grabbing the "bull" by the horns, which Heisuke was sure belonged to a bull. Anything! But... a woman's groan elicited from the sheer manhandled force?

Horns! Horns indeed! Their smooth, ivory complexion radiated against the moon's fluent illuminance would betray the naked eye; had they once previously belonged to Indian elephants, their tusks shrunk from a master's craftsmanship! Thus ensured Heisuke's utter oblivious to the scenario which even he had uttered under his breath, although he hadn't much time to ponder nor react before having to pry Chikasa off the female shadow-dweller's protruding horns which stuck out of their head.

"AICH! You will pay... for this! Wretched fiend! I will return what's rightfully mine!" The horned shadow-dweller spat ruefully, hoisting herself amongst the company of amicable hogs. From there it was certain to both Shinsengumi and ex-Shinsengumi member, that the woman was driving incantations flooding into the piglets' ears. She was manipulating them with atrocious acts! Were they her spies? Minions?

He directed a reproachful look back at the concentrated Chikasa, and back at the apparent-female shadow.

"..." Heisuke was in mastered silence when he'd caught glimpse of their exchanging glares, to the point it was certain that they were the ones conjuring the god-awful mist amongst them! He was surely in a state, as he took a gigantic step backwards.

 _I'll let you take care of that, Chikasa... I feel like there's bad blood, which i'm sure you can take care of_. - Heisuke motioned with the swerve of his head, fine eyebrows harrowed down as he jerked his angular jaw in the direction of bumbling swines. Each one had taken their own little flustered flare of flames within their gaping mouths, but as Heisuke quoted, they hadn't the same spark as before. Thus! That gave the lad the most optimal opportunity **.**

He herded the remaining hogs which had reluctantly joined in the brawl, their trotters and moist snouts squeaking with the gist of the moment, for Heisuke was instant enough to bring them into a corner. Driving them with the fear of succumbing to both his swords' edges etched into the hogs' minds, their hysterical squeals and nickers were perceivable in the compact air. Now! He could return to assist-

"HEISUKE! L-LEND ME SOME STRENGTH!" The exclamation was a split-second decision which Chikasa had approached with reluctance; even Heisuke had assumed she preferred independence in her duty. Therefore, when Heisuke has managed to peer over his shoulder after his accomplished job, he was set on edge by the vision of Chikasa being towed away. What on earth?

It wasn't possible - He restated in his mind over and over, spontaneously breaking into a top-speed sprint (which complimented his title of master forerunner quite complacently!), and checking the calculations. Heisuke's speed had made him superior to Chikasa, yet when it came to brute force and willpower, she would hastily triumphant on many occasions.

What had gone wrong?

"I'M COMING TO SAVE YOU!" He bellowed in retort, a swell of flourishing compassion and a sense of duty overcoming him as he managed to reach their spot, before abruptly pausing in his tracks. He made a face, before scanning the vacant area; hang on? Hadn't he heard her desperate plea-

"UP! 12 O'CLOCK!" Chikasa instructed Heisuke, as he proceeded to raise his jaw. What he saw, was absolutely maniacal! Chikasa was being towed away tucked in the night's glaringly uncomfortable silence, up in the air! Suspended in the air's wrathful grasp; was that even something the deities would permit? Heisuke was left aimlessly toddling to and fro, catching the glare of the moonlight enabling him to watch the shadow lifting her in whatever direction suited best.

Heisuke tracked this with humble ease. He drew a sharp breath which filled his diaphragm, exhaling out a heavy output. He was serene, his temples loosened as he contracted his thighs. He curled into a tightened ball, whilst managing to slot Chikasa's longsword between his clenched teeth. Sheathing his own sword in its sheathe, he was left boggling into the vacuous night's air, before-

He leapt! Exiting the retracted position with enough momentum to leap a foot into the air, he grasped ahold of Chikasa's dangling sandals, fending off the tightened knot forming in his stomach. True, his adrenaline was rushing to the point it was devouring his conscious to breathe properly in the air, but he kept his wits about him. I won't, ever let go!

Well, taking a step back, how did Heisuke even reach this situation? - Dangling in mid air whilst being towed off to only the Gods' knows where, what was the former dilemma? Wanting to chase after a former comrade? Reminiscing of his old job and co-workers? Being alive, at all?

He felt his squirming tongue poke against the sword slammed into his mouth, concentrating profusely not to land any sort of internal cuts within his mouth! How could he possibly return the sword, when he could barely keep himself from slipping! He gripped Chikasa's bony ankles for dear life, unintentionally causing the dearest woman to squirm in response.

"Heisuke! Leave!" She commanded, which caused the entity above to wriggle at the warning.

"Another being? Why, we must get rid of them!" The shadow-dweller returned as she forced a raspy cackle down her parched throat, her impeding presence leaving Heisuke momentarily fighting for dominance! Only then did he notice the pricks of the fire-breathing soot-coloured piglets crawling down the shadow's body frame and trickling down Chikasa's tense body, before gnawing at Heisuke's curled fingers.

He was sure he delayed the mode of transportation, even just for a second!

Heisuke was about to incline by gesturing for Chikasa to grab the sword tucked in his occupied mouth in a discreet manner, until he was dragged across the floor. Correction, his body was HEAVED by a foreign sensation strangling his hips! It was grounding enough that even Chikasa complained with a prolonged groan, as they simultaneously turned their heads over their shoulders.

Chikasa let out a strangled noise.

Heisuke's eyes threatened to bulge, his heart seemingly ready to pour out of its ribcage.

The grounding presence which had yanked Heisuke down to the ground with ease, bore a severe expression. Their hunched frame, as their arms were outstretched and latched around Heisuke's lanky stature, completely outclassed the youthful lad in prosperity, charisma, and indefinite experience.

Wispy auburn bangs which complimented his chiseled cheekbones, though the sunken appearance of his cheeks accentuated by the moon would lead to the conclusion he was suffering from sleep deprivation. Nonetheless, his tufts of hair which fell down to his corded neck, was pinned into a hefty knot at the back of his head, which prevented any hassle in battle.

Alas, he kept his trained fern orbs rheumy and intent, moving past the surprising appearance of Heisuke, to the likes of a slumped Chikasa being yanked by her shoulders. Pursed lips as he managed to sneak a forlorn frown, Heisuke had just about envisioned the absence of Okita Souji's Shinsengumi attire, before all images before him became a blur. They ceased to simply exist.

The pertinence of the man wasn't confirmed in Heisuke's ushering mind, as he found himself lulled to a trance of deep sleep awfully inviting. In the back of his mind, he could've sworn he'd heard the audible clamour of Chikasa calling out for Okita Souji, but he was just too nauseated from being caught in the air. Lightheaded...

Okita hadn't a trouble plunging his trustworthy weaponry into whatever deemed ill in his mind, which also included most of the population of the swines prancing off Heisuke's build, and against Okita. Perhaps their flame was finally ignited, for they bleated a tremendous uproar of fumes and combustion!

Okita was erratic enough to dodge the forthcoming attacks to which he landed his hollow blows; he would take an almighty step back, before creating another two steps in response. Luckily, he'd received the revelation of abnormalities in the area with roaming caution; not once was he out of place, much to Heisuke's grim expression. Exceedingly calm and at ease, similar to a summer day's blazing spar!

 _THWAK! SPLAT!_

Eventually, Chikasa had managed to claw her way out of the lock against her shoulders, contacting the ground before thrusting herself into a roll across the floor to avoid any serious injuries. Heisuke, was cushioned by his fluffy portions of voluminous locks and his lack of distance from the ground; he'd coincidentally spat out the sword before it could split open his bloody tongue any further! It landed with a series of metallic clatters.

Okita fought with bravery; his frame quaked with every impact at whatever inferno was sprawled his direction, for he was able to leap to the side. Thankful for his long legs and globe arched back, he would've taken another stride, hence his eyes darted to the distance.

However, he was caught in the reality of the situation. For a long time coming he'd been suppressing the urge to cough or wheeze; it tickled at his button nose and fluttered up his blocked throat, yet he'd known the consequences all too well. The sheer force of simply hacking a cough, would lead to another series of exasperating wheezes. He'd experienced it over, over and over again.

"!" He widened his glossy hued eyes as he abruptly halted dead in his tracks, keeling over with a fist driven against his chest for support. He felt it, he felt his bronchitis shrivel as he braced for the coughs, allowing them to flow as he expectorated wet, laborious coughs that jolted most of the starring figures in that scenario. To Okita, it was an immediate defeat, a withdrawal in his mind.

And with that, his resolve to fight was crumbling before him, as he rubbed his grimy hands against his kimono, his sword clattering aside with a CLANK! A pained expression flitted across his affronted visage as he wiped away trickled of sweat beads rolling down his smooth cheeks; he resembled the most violent, yet docile creature you could scavenge from a salvaging heap.

With that interlude, Chikasa immediately brought herself to shuddering in complete sorrow. She knew in her mind, there wasn't a point, nor a hint of self-deprecation that would drive her to believe Okita was _fine_. Because, he wasn't.

But Okita didn't let her believe he wasn't.

A silhouette which hardly resembled the horned gleaming shadow had lurked in the backdrop of the scene in total observation. The masked figure, who'd concealed their presence enough for none of the Shinsengumi to notice, had crept up behind the weakened Okita Souji in a sinister stalking motion, their strides measured with the stroke of their hand reaching above their head-

Before striking down against the nape of the disease-riddled Samurai. The instant crackle of bone, the flooding emotions of different shades of despair immobilising Chikasa the moment she'd reached for his side, as well as the timid Heisuke landing against the cold sleek gravel with hazed insight.

 _Kondou, or Itô_ \- he memorised his lamenting words.

 _Chikasa, or Souji_ \- he accordingly followed his frost-nipped breaths elevated into the cumulus of the eve, the fumes curled into their own brusquely minuscule forms.

"None of it... m-ma..." Heisuke barely muttered, eyes rolled upwards.


	2. 2 Breathless wonder

"The Abduction Arc - Stave Two"

3rd P.O.V

When you shift sometimes in your sleep, you can almost feel each neurone in your body slowly awakening from the deep levels of paralysis. It's a slurred, meticulous process, yet it does the job. It's something that never ceases to comfort the mind, as well as the heart; it's a standard bodily function which is designed to relieve the stress in your body. Standard.

Chiara Corinne's legs trembled with an overriding twitching, giving her a small "goodmorning", yet, much to her groggy mind's thought track, her brain had taught her that in actual fact, it was still night! Midnight, even! What on earth?

When she eventually came-to, there was a tremendous stir of her heavy eyelids wavering for a brief second, the interval followed by the consciousness that there was an overwhelming weight toppling her back; submerged in the ache of her spine had just led her to assume, that she was in that stiff position for eons. After all, there she sat upright, realising that her hands were in a cuffed position drawn behind her back.

Prior to this sudden conclusion, the female solider wasn't particular sure she was even awake. Alive. Here. Still breathing, she noted to oneself and no one in particular, for she proceeded to squirm on her rear; with enough perseverance, she felt the wounded material binding her wrists together, before instantaneously busying her racked mind.

"Hngh..." she furrowed her brow with a harrowed, exasperated feature dart across her face in a split second, until she felt her attention drift elsewhere. This was perhaps acceded by her ears twitching for a moment. She felt something quake somewhere, in the back of her conscious, yet as she deviated her curious gaze to her surroundings, only then had she noticed the blatant change in environment.

She wasn't on the street anymore, nor was she accompanied by any Shinsengumi members. The compact, minuscule room held no empathy or warmth; the only illumination emitted was replayed by the dusky paper lamp set in the far-side right corner. To Chiara, the backdrop of the micro-room felt quite homely... the shades of maroon, burgundy, as well as the perked silhouettes flitting to and fro outside the panelled doors enabled this.

For starters, the first key point she'd figured, was the fact she'd been tied to the room's leading pillar. The ropes' strength suggested it took excess precision. Moreover, she appeared to be free of any hassles from armour, Shinsengumi garbs; even her sandals! It was absurd, yet something ideal in the culture she'd managed to appreciate the gist of. Were they confiscated?

"Hah..." much to her bewilderment, there was a distinct noise situated just ahead of her; that immediately halted the thoughts of homeliness in her mind. There was a stomach-wrenching sensation flipping up and down her abdomen, which told, or rather clamoured at the woman, of the untold monstrosity lurking amongst her. Although her mind constantly began envisioning terror again, again and again, she nonetheless plucked the courage to lay her eyes beyond her sandals.

There really wasn't anything Chiara could comment on, nor was there any way her coiled body wrapped around the pillar could ever mean that she felt all the more calm; collapsed on the tatami without any restraints yet his bruised, scabbed body depicted otherwise, was the misfortune of Heisuke. Presumably, his legs were tied together in an intricate fashion, judging by their stiff posture.

The woman found herself averting her eyes for a brief interlude, before observing his wounds; his hitched breath meant that the intake of oxygen he'd desired would be fetched from his deeply elevated shoulders which grazed his ears. He appeared to be sleeping quite soundly, for his tucked in legs had reached his downgraded chin; he resembled a dormant ostrich, if anything. That was heightened by his smooth, careless expression etched to his tranquil state; his luscious wind-snagged locks pulled over his shoulder.

Yet, Chiara felt the agitation winding up within her similar to the way a toymaker would wind up an impeding Jack-in-the-box; simply, she was awaiting for that anger to dissociate from her optimum objective. She didn't value the fact they were laid across the floor like this, especially after the Goryo-Eji's incident. Usually, taking the wrong sides in many situations would often lead to inevitable death; that, was something she'd experienced firsthand.

After all, despite the horrendous site of the paled Heisuke had taken an indefinite toll on the waking girl, she was sure that there were a few other things on her mind at the time. They were evident and surely enough, affected her substantially.

"Where, is Okita?" She took a reproachful glaze around her vacant surroundings, deeming his absence as official. Alas, before she could incline towards the snoozing sight of Heisuke, she was abruptly taken aback by the presence of a figure delve further, from the petite doorway.

Flooding into the room was the hiss of the sliding panel frames click on its hinges, before greeting the hazardous figure of a severe being. Their haunched frame was complimented by their lethargic strides in the direction of the dormant lad, until they batted away their excess portions of deep shaded chestnut. Garbed in a coral pink kimono pinned to the waist with a mint green sash, their boyish hakama truly receded in a fluttering fashion.

As Chiara stared dumbfounded by the bird-mimicking posture, she could only gape openly at the way the feint-woman began pressing her sandal-clad foot into pitiful boy's desperate body. Wrenched. Again, and again, she landed these precarious blows that heightened her raised brow; the sheer smugness was distinct, that she abhorred the two of them.

When the woman caught sight of Chiara's repugnant glare, she proceeded to fold her legs inwards until they grazed against her chest, pinching the boy's lobe. Within seconds, this simple act left Chiara devoid of any emotions, rattling her frame in an attempt to budge closer. She was racked with an enraged spirit, clenching her jaw with a snarl.

"That'll be you, if you don't give us the intel useful!" The woman barked in hoarse laughter, releasing the ear but only to proceed aiming a wad of spit in the silently seething Chiara's direction.

Resigning with a slumped figure as she landed with a thud against the pillar, Chiara flickered a look of sympathy in the stirring Heisuke groaning in the pain. In response, she handed 'Chizuru' - the name she'd recalled many years before, a growl of apathy.

"What do you want with me? Revenge for saying those meany mean things to you?" She scrunched up her face as the fleeting thoughts of acquiescence barely appeared in her mind. "I don't feel like I owe you anything at the moment, sorry."

Despite having full apprehension the upper hand was given to the introduction of 'Chizuru' for she appeared to be quite voluminous of confidence, Chiara was sure that with enough loose tongue she could easily find herself snaking out of the situation. Winding her up, would be a fluent feat.

This had ticked off the boar-taming female! She appeared disheveled, gasping with her owlish eyes widened to a state of quaking rage, which led to her striking body. A foot forward, she landed her hand CRACK across Chiara's cheek, as she winced at the searing amount of pain erupting from her paled hand. Whilst pondering deeper at the unfazed solider's expression, she wrenched the bridge of her nose, her tightened fist read to aim again!

That, would've continued onwards, if it hadn't been for the delayed intervention of a figure creeping up behind the hunched Chizuru. A composed hand laid against her shoulder which awakened the female from the spilling fury, was enough to leave the woman in submission, sagging her shoulders slightly as she retracted from Chiara.

They began to discuss something in particular, yet those words weren't processed just yet within Chiara's sluggish mind, referring to the indistinguishable dialect as simple drones. Maybe it was the impact of the slap finally buzzing her mind, or maybe it was the adrenaline of the situation causing her stomach and conscious to flip. Or perhaps, it was the undeniable resemblance of an unlikely person, causing her to ogle the woman beside Yukimura.

Her snatched hair bundled into a brunette bun, the excess strands flickered across her smooth complexion was exemplary; even the regal kimono she bore that landed to her tabi (she, was not wearing any sandals much to Chiara's dazed intuition) seemed rather dignified. Everything, was as perfect as a picturesque landscape, the minimalistic details enthralling you to the point of submission. Even her thinned eyes, were capable of throttling the air amongst her.

According to Chiara's mind, it had appeared the discussion was cut short imminently by the body language of Yukimura, swerving until her back faced Chiara. She snarled a lone noise, perhaps disagreeing with a suggestion the perfect woman had created, yet nor could she necessarily find anything wrong with her logic. Nonetheless, that caused the perfect woman to face Chiara after a prolonged silence, seating herself whilst adjusting her imperial kimono.

This was all a bit of a pathetic joke to Chiara Corinne. She reminisced in the fact she and Heisuke were ambushed by inferno-wheezing sows, the reconciliation of an old foe, and the appearance of her long-lost sister. She cracked a bloody grin, allowing the emancipated fluid trickle down her cheek.

"Karen... I'm glad you're here again. I awfully recognised your droning voice, and maybe we can have a bit of a catch up session in each other's lives," she handed Karen a knowing look, cocking her head over her shoulder and towards her bound hands, "think you can get me out of this mess?"

Chizuru, much to Chiara's disapproval, broke the earnest silence with another fabricated laugh. It felt scornful, as if Chiara was doing something completely, and utterly stupid.

Perhaps it was stupid. Because onwards led the march of a lingering silence that completely engulfed the room, even Heisuke's gradually candor body was enshrouded in a level of deathly reticence. In fact, only when Chiara began mortally regretting her chirps, did the forwardly "Karen" part her plump lips.

"The gravity of the situation doesn't concern you, perhaps? The Toda domain offered this temporary campsite to the Satchō Alliance and company, thus I must readily fulfil my role by supplying them with Ochimizu; it is a plentiful heap regarding my heritage as Yama Uba," she expressed herself with a forlorn frown as if she were disagreeing with oneself, before proceeding to cast a dark look over her shoulder, "it has appeared that Yukimura has failed to tell me, that over two years ago, she had LOST one of these critical singular Ochimizu packages; handcrafted and superior in texture, they were purposefully set away for years to come."

Satchō - Satsuma, Choshū Alliance. Bad. Bad people - it was drilled into Chiara's head from the moments she was permitted to kill, with the Shinsengumi. They, were enemies to the Shogunate, thus leading her to realising she was in the den of her accursed opposites.

Karen then pursed her lips, after the ongoing matters were expressed towards the confidant Chiara.

"In fact.. she is insistent it was your who picked the package on purpose." Karen, or Yama Uba resumed, which made Chiara wince in retort; the level of tone conveyed, whilst definitely recognisable in the fact it resembled her long lost sister, truly was distorted in her mind. She even began reading the woman's lips with intense intent, for she couldn't wipe the feeling that what was soon to come, wasn't in her favour. Her heart began to pound.

"Pft..." she trailed off, grimacing as she bleakly gazed into the floor's contents, "it isn't a coincidence we've met so many peculiar times! Karen, look at me. Forget about all that political and cannibal baloney, or anything else. Don't you recognise me? My hair! My face! Our same eyes! We're siblings for god's sake!"

Her voice felt as if it were waning on her wit's ends, the resolution shifted until it felt pathetic in her mind. Of course her mind was fixated on the past, the nostalgic past in which she was bundled in her elder sister's enrapturing embrace, the lukewarm ginger scent which followed afterwards. As much as anyone could attempt to dissuade those raw, pure memories, Chiara clamped ahold of them firmly. Could... could Karen, too?

The woman was not amused. The twitch in the corners of her mouth only meant her riddled frown was punctured further across her visage, as she exhaled a lone exasperated sigh; though it did not crease her porcelain skin, nor ruffle her kimono as she dived her hand inwardly into her heavily robed sleeve. Within seconds, she flashed the blade of a throwing dagger, grasping it by the handle whilst pointing the most carved tip at Chiara's chest.

Slowly yet surely, she maimed eye contact, clawing it with her pursed lips. Edging closer, she seemed as if she were ready to leap from her seated stance, apathetic eyes approving of nothing laid before her.

"I, am not your sister. I am not 'Karen', or whoever you accuse me to be. Many things I am; a mortal sibling I am not." She announced in a despicable tone of loathing, honey-coaxed eyes fixating themselves into Chiara's widened onyx orbs. When she managed to grasp at the timid fear lurking at Chiara's inanimate figure, she recoiled gradually back to her casual stance.

"That vial is more important to me than anything in this world. More than alliances, bonds, hopes or dreams. It, is my optimum ticket that'll allow me to Yomi, and pass Yama's judgement. A new vessel, that doesn't shame my true essence and purpose; in order to retrieve it I must please each master, meaning I do not have time for your antics. Reveal the location of the Ochimizu. You are unimportant, though..." she trailed off, and to Chiara's horror, a tug of an unleashed, horrendous smile flittered at her phantom facade, "your plucky soul, is something I could devour."

Sometimes, there's a point where you must stop. In those moments where all seems a bit distant, it can be a bit of a relief when everything passes by your ears in a whistling motion, leaving you without a hint of despair. Why? Because you lacked the attention, nor did you appeal to the scenario. Sometimes, in those moments, shrinking back with a tentative whimper, can easily do the trick.

Chiara became vastly afraid. The dagger was ready to plunge into her chest whilst maintaining the looming arm's distance, as well as the desolate of emotions countenance of the woman, wielded. Her fantasies, disappeared before her with the ludicrous thoughts of ever finding her sister rapidly ceasing to exist.

She, was not Karen. She, held the same formless expression as usual which cut off Chiara main breathing canals. Whenever Chiara happened to gaze upon her, there again was that same devouring sensation,

Attempting to break that cycle of fear, formlessness, deprivation and devouring, Chiara simultaneously ducked her head down between her distanced knees. Stammering with a chock of perspiration dance down her chin, she hysterically began shaking her head. Wrong, wrong, wrong wrong.

"You... aren't... Karen, you're..." she diverted her gaze, whispering wrong, yet strangely it wasn't audible, "evil."

Yama Uba paused briefly for a second, curtly sheathing her dagger back into its original place interlocked with her sleeve. She appeared thoughtful as she spoke. "I am Yama Uba."

Chiara hesitantly gulped down the humongous chock of bile refusing to clamber down her windpipe, flickering her eyes momentarily at Heisuke's body strewn across the floor, behind the demon lady. Questions and emotions aside, it was the perfect opportunity as things were quiet, to ask the key question stirring in her mind.

"Where, is... Okita Souji?" Chiara quivered. There was a violent tear in her heart that refused to simply "float away", when she'd just lost the most crucial aspect of her point of living, in the wrong time, wrong country, wrong year, wrong life. Her sibling, who was effectively the only person who'd experienced the same dilemma as her, was just a fabrication. However, in her mind, she knew the distorted vision of Okita Souji, was a mere reality.

Suddenly, the mellow-tone in the environment had taken a 360. A gust of wind conjured by the flaps of Yama Uba's tailed sleeves was evident, for she instantly sheathed once more her throwing dagger as faster as the naked eye could comprehend. The series of seconds followed afterwards were exceptionally morbid, for the merciless witch drove the dagger into Chiara's hip blade, shunning the question with the mortifying delirious sensation building up within the female solider.

CRACK.

She trailed a bony finger, presumably the index finger, across the hunched back of Chiara, who'd keeled against the ground at the solemn stabbing. Yama Uba, Karen, Witch Lady, Perfect Lady, anything that fleeted in Chiara's mind that was the imminent correct term for it, did not matter. Hereafter, she leant in, her trickling cold breath flooding into the flushed ears of the injured woman.

"The dead man, isn't your problem, humble female human." The peremptory shortness in her prompt tone left the mildly wounded soldier hastily amplifying her voice in wretched complied gasps; Chiara attempted to project it in such a manner, it would easily give the impression she were an angst-worn prey fleeing from their consumer.

In spite of this vivid array of inhuman impulse the mere human conveyed, the honey-drizzled pools belonging to Yama Uba shifted until they transitioned into a murky hue; following up a sweep of her noble garbs, led to her elevated body embarking towards the likes of Yukimura tucked away in the corner. They conversed once more although on this particular occasion it would've been certain, that they both held menacing smiles, before exiting as smoothly as they entered.

Suddenly, engrossed in those sanguine flickers of the flames belonging to the oil lamps, Chiara was greeted by the memories of the vial she'd taken custody of back in the day. She was filled with nostalgia, remembering her curious green expression as she swept the glimmering vial in her grasp; tucking it away in fissures of her broken drawers, she'd never found the correct or appropriate time to study it.

Chiara crumbled downwards, muffling her piercing scream between her knees. The excruciating pain was livid and bubbled at her lower-side, straining her muscles and entire body. She couldn't move for a second, devoured with the passive tension lurking from afar.

Overcome with a sinister silence that threatened to throttle the groaning solider, she took a gander at how serious her inflicted injury truly was; there was a pool formatting at her mid thigh which had trailed prior, reaching upwards towards her flank. Fortunately, with enough gritting of her bared teeth, she pushed aside the reasonable approach of hollering away her pain. Instead, she roamed her front towards Heisuke, parting her lips.

"Heisuke..." Chiara cried out seeking his hapless albeit comforting voice. She hitched her breath, "a-are you, there?"

As hapless as her mind was, she was sure that without his coy voice entering her system and sensing him close, she would've been reeling in the aftermath of the minor injury, screaming kicking and screaming some more.

"Hngh..." at long last, to the broken woman's bliss, there was a distinct noise elicited, somewhat merged between a grunt and a noise of struggling discomfort to breathe. After all, he was pressed against his front after the violative beatings of the queer pig-tamer, lips crushed against the ground as he was muffled in endorsement. "Y-Yeah..."

Chiara was instantly relieved, the frustrated tears that threatened to overspill, had finally seeped through the cracks she blotted with vain. Ugly sobs. She couldn't handle the intensity of the situation anymore, nor could she wield a reserved, tenacious facade; she was mortally scared, and already the fear for Okita's life was clinging onto her every jolt.

"I'm sorry... for everything, and for how," she wavered, jerking her immobile hands still pinned against the column with amplified thuds in frustration. Her face crumpled up, "useless I am."

However, to her crestfallen demeanour's surprise, Heisuke cracked open a hearty laugh that awfully felt strained against his chest. Was he hurt that badly? Nonetheless, he proceeded to squirm against the ground, resembling a trapped worm.

"It's okay, Chikasa," he alas revealed a reddened face pressured by the face-front position, but he enveloped his expression with a tender smile, "I believe... that, things are okay! You know that, right?"

Heisuke... - Chiara's heart lurched in empathy towards the pale stricken lad blessing her with his emerged grin, his optimistic gleams something she'd never experienced before. It was so... golden. Earnest, albeit petulant, yet held highly in regard, in Chiara's mind.

As her eyebrows were knitted, she eventually slumped her shoulders against the pillar, the consciousness to fight against the current dissipating from her weakened limbs. When she released herself from that prior stress, she too, forced a tentative smile to encourage Heisuke in those fleeting moments. The strength was regained as well as replenished within her tersely aching muscles.

If only, they were able to exchange the words and looks of comfort for any second longer.

"Keh... is there any use in believing in such feeble fallacies?" An ominous tone rang as it staggered into the room, filling the atmosphere with a thickly putrid residue; the fear of the unknown followed afterwards. The voice ridiculed their intimate moment together, as it belonged to, the foe Chizuru Yukimura. She interjected herself, sliding her brandished kodachi out of its scabbard with every waking pace.

As Chiara averted her eyes in muted agony, revisioning the naïve past in which she'd barely met the timid girl; they'd conversed and it wasn't long till they held a common objective of finding a missing sibling. How short lived was that unity? Despite the fact this presumably held no importance to Yukimura, that special, innocent moment was something cherishing within Chiara's heart.

Yukimura frowned a forlorn frown. When no reception was conjured to the woman's appearance, she decided instantly to curve her attention towards the unrelenting solider tied to the post, perhaps grousing in a detestable plan. She stroked her chin for a moment thoughtfully with her grime-clad fingertips, reaching towards the figure with an edging stance.

"Hey, why do you care about that accomplice of yours? That guy I mean. The coughing one. And don't get me started on that other one," she flickered a deadbeat look over her shoulder in the direction of the anchored Heisuke, "shouldn't you care more about yourself? And the Ochimizu you stole?"

This was the breaching point, as Chiara hastily raised her eye level, a brooding expression.

"No! Damnit! Stop this, now. Why are you like this? What about your father you were looking for, and the way you asked me for help?" Chiara snapped although she was very much fatigued, her eyebrows knitted as her face delved into a borderline breakdown. "What about... you going back to him?"

Her body was rocking in those several moments, indicating the amount of intimidation she felt building up within her; whenever marching with the Shinsengumi slogan high in the air, or parading in the streets alongside her peers, even simply forced to slaughter someone plucked off the street. Chiara, had a motive, agenda, or whatnot you may call it. Yet... In those moments alone, the only real thought in her mind, was keeping Heisuke safe. Alive. Happy. Even if she was pushed to the brink of submission by the snobbish creature in front of her.

Yukimura, who appeared rather bleak and fruitless, faltered for a second. This was followed hereafter by a brusque sigh exhaled through her nostrils, as she handed the mid-weeping solider a prolonged look.

"I want you, to apologise for your name calling back at the Shinsengumi dog-house. It might've been two years but those wretched words still loom in my mind. Maybe then... I will be gracious, to both you and your unlikely companions." Chizuru sputtered with a raised brow hidden under her darkened bangs, her edging grinless face appearing all the more deadly. She was as calm as a deadly torrent about to pick up speed.

"I... I," Chiara couldn't apprehend for a split second the exact demands the woman was bellowing, as she blurted out a simple stammer.

STRIKE! Across the woman's tear-stained cheek, was delivered a searing crack of the pig-tamer's hand. Gasping, Chiara was left staring abruptly into the empty space below her, arid lips quivered despite her screaming instinct to speak.

"Go on," Yukimura cajoled with a menacing leer, intently glaring into the pitiful woman's rheumy orbs. Again, when there wasn't a response, the pig-tamer took the initiative of cracking open another slap, although with each furious blow, they appeared all the more taunting... taunting.

"Keep going!", or, "I haven't heard the words yet!", hereafter, "Do you want to be alone?", soon, "Go on!" , until "I'm listen-"

"I'M SORRY!" There was a thundering voice clattering in the room, as Chiara took ahold of her last ounces of courage. Shuddering body sagged as her adrenaline was rushing to her light head, the impeding tears overflowed when she ran over each apology in mania. "I'm so sorry! Please don't do this! I'm sorry... I'm sorry! Kill me! I just don't want anything happening to Okita, or Heisuke!"

Perhaps this was a heightened delicacy for the pig-tamer, for as soon as the cry was elicited, she threw her arms up into the air whilst leaping back onto her feet. Cocking her head back, there was a rough cackle that was summoned from the crevices of her suffocating windpipe.

"THE WORLD DOESN'T REVOLVE AROUND KINDNESS! The weak who simply apologise, beg for their lives and watch their loved ones die - PERISH! Modern, innovative thinking is how the future shall thrive," screeched the coy woman, licking her lips as she preyed on the shivering solider in their utmost defeat, "what a pathetic whore!"

Whilst the ludicrous chortles whistled past the ears of Heisuke, as well as Chiara, the latter's eyes were relentlessly unfocused and hazed; she couldn't pause the sheer blurriness in her lenses as she was harrowed down onto the ground. On the other hand, it was as if Yukimura had become slightly imbued in her glory, instantaneously dropping down to face the likes of Heisuke. Swerving her thumb joints until they were fixated heavily against his cheeks, she raised him with the jerk of her elbow, as if he was on petulant display.

"You love this dude? You want him safe? You love him?" She proceeded to lift her lips into a curvaceous grin, as she feinted a gasp, "is he your brother? Friend! None of that will matter... because if you inform us of the vial's location, he'll have an honourable death."

Although Heisuke protested with a ushered whimper when the woman's claw-like talons dug into his face's skin, he was remarkably diligent; it was as if he'd resigned to his fate long before the confrontation. This caused Chiara to waver for a spontaneously moment; was there use to worry over her superior in both experience and talent? He was, after all, a dignified Shinsengumi faction leader. Nothing could deter him. He appeared calm.

Sure enough, by his grim expression as he scrunched the bridge of his nose from the impeding clawing, there was a delicate series of red marks engraved into his skin from the momentum. Yet, at the appearance of the woman's carefully handled weaponry bristling his cheek, did the lad finally break into a cold sweat. Shivering.

Alas, the woman did not appear to be fazed, nor distinctively bruised by the callous reception of the redundant Shinsengumi members; as soon as she'd reeled her blade's edge against the pitiful boy's cheek though, piercing his left side until the blood sprung open in trickles down his smooth skin, did the atmosphere contort horrifically. It sank further and further, her wrenched wrist moving back and forth as it hacked away into his side.

"HEISUKE!" Chiara bellowed within seconds of gawking at the carnage, jerking her body in colloquial intervals; back and forth, back and forth she heaved with all her might to release herself from the restraint of the burning ropes tying her down in her restricted path. Though, it was met with a full resonance within the compact quarters; her efforts were in sour vain.

In fact, it was sure evident that the ropes' impact burned severely at her bound wrists, nonetheless thudding her intertwined arms wrapped around the pillar until the contact against of her elbows began to ache. She could essentially feel Heisuke's pain as he cowered into the ground, his body already pressured into the tatami until his opposing cheek, which was squished, would turn an unsuspecting shade of beetroot. It stung to the point of sheer agony.

"Look how compassionate I am! Giving your dearly beloved a well deserved excruciatingly painful makeover!" The repugnant woman bore her teeth as she proceeded to carve further incisions into Heisuke's face to Chiara's prominent protests.

The slumped female solider etched with a pained visage was writhing with a profound, yet translucent sense of mute wrath. It was the type to dissuade any type of common sense, the type that blocked out reasoning such as handing over the information necessary. It was the type, which left her bleary eyed, fatigue with stress, whilst also moaning "stop..." every second or so.

She was overcome with a powerless sense of grief, for she knew that she could not protect Heisuke, even in those thinning moments. On the otherhand, Yukimura was livid at her acquiescence, never pausing for a second at her enraged countenance.

"Not! The! Answer! I ! Was! Looking! For!" Yukimura gritted as she wrenched her calves, swerving her body until it virtually suffocated atop Heisuke. The blistering force of the entangled woman was enough for the Shinsengumi female solider to bare her teeth in a primitive display; the surge of the moment made her snap within her mind. She was calm, but engrossed with utter, spitting ferocity as her strained eyes were glossy.

Raw, fleshed instinct to fight, not only for Heisuke's safety, but for her own. She needed to live. It was fundamental.

That selfishness coiled around her human instincts, causing her to ram her body in a gargantuan foremost rush. Again, she was halted by the reeling of her arms wrapped around the pillar, before an idea flashed across her mind. Intaking a prolonged, cold breath into her chest, she began to formate... a sort of scream. Something that choked her throat, yet wasn't the issue in her mind. It blocked out any other nerves wracking her senses.

As she caught the duo off guard by her amassed volume, she proceeded to fiddle with her wound fingers. Scraping her left hand over her outer palm belonging to her right hand, she began to thrust her thumb over her right thumb's ligaments which attached the thumb to her hand. Rapidly, she inserted enough force to begin jerking the thumb in horrific directions, barely wincing at the incredible pain fixating at her metacarpal bones.

That all came to a halt, when she was able to fluently dislocate her own thumb. At first it was quite a wretched, loosening sensation; it was as if her limb was being relieved of its duty, dutifully slumping itself into her palm yet the skin still managing to weave together to ensure it hadn't lopped off; then in the aftermath, had she begun feeling the acidic burn stinging her bare hand. There wasn't sufficient time, for she heavily panted and gasped wet laborious breaths.

Slipping her hands out of the loosened ropes, she simultaneously bounded towards the duo, leaping upright. The bolt was as rapid as the flicker of the oil lamps that would crackle in the fissures of the tense atmosphere. Onwards, did Chiara manage to catch up to them unmanned, for she caught the woman's attention, but all too late.

Guiding her bloody fist above her head, despite its wobble and quake, for she could virtually taste the emotions stirring within her. Vengeance. Resent. Hatred. Pure, distinctive Wrath. Perhaps that was complimented by her soaked kimono drenched in a sticky coating of sweat, blood, or whatever tears she'd shedded on a whim. Her expression hardened, shoulders tensed, lips pursed, feet spread apart to brace the impact of her hooked fist crack against the pig tamer's jaw.

"Don't provoke me, if you aren't ready for the consequences," her dispassionate, composed tone seemingly pounced on Yukimura. It was as if, for that brief splitsecond, the female Shinsengumi solider had discarded her true identity; only seeking bloodshed as justice. For Heisuke? No... for herself.

Initially, Chizuru Yukimura hadn't responded to the solider awakening from their trance-like state, only offering a tedious grimace. However, in those final moments, the time had awfully lingered in a sluggish manner; Yukimura had barely elicited a heightened squirm when she was knocked backwards. Knocked backwards, what a jester! A joke! She was brutishly caught in the impact of the collision, body shifted in an inhumane manner as it was wretchedly flung into the air.

Immediately, she was toppled over and crashed into the door's panelling, resulting in the interior in actual fact to consequently tear from the hinges. She consequently lad amongst debris, rubble and whatnot. It was absurd, believing that a simple blow from the female solider would lead to such catastrophic events!

Chiara was lucky enough for the fortunate to befall upon her, for the woman moaned, groaned, whimpered and twitched in the pile on the ground. Ultimately, she was flung outside, crumpled with scarlet liquid flowing through her course raven locks. The dead of the desolate night tinged her chilled bones, as it too rushed into the clamoured room's warmth. Slowly, it was incarcerated with a dull bitter temperature.

Chiara Corinne broke into a cold sweat, keeling over to part her lips and exhale an elongated sigh. She was tempted to scream to her heart's content to relieve herself of the distressing pain throbbing at both of her hands, for they had not healed from when she'd caught the blade in her hands hours before, nor had she fully recovered from the mild stabbing in her side. Clutching ahold of her hip gingerly at the memory she'd been injured, she proceeded to grab ahold of Heisuke's shoulder with an intense shake. Tolerance, was key.

"Heisuke," she panted with deviated, anguished eyes, "it's over now, we're free."

Was she, in actual fact, attempting to comfort the mid-conscious boy? Or indeed, was she hoping this sense of compassion could reflect upon her; she needed that warmth, but in the meantime, delivering Heisuke back was her top priority.

The commotion was surely to be audible, to whomever the estate belonged to. That, perhaps was the only thought parading in the shaken woman's mind, as Heisuke came-to. Carefully guiding the man to his feet with her most durable hand, she was oddly enough engrossed with his nauseated expression; much to her surprise, the man in actual fact fainted on the spot in her arms.

Issuing a small sigh that wasn't as scornful as it sounded as, Chiara heaved him over her back deftly. She was quiet for a second, running over her thoughts and actions prior to that moment; was right that she ran amuck? As much as she flickered a gander over her shoulder at Yukimura's silenced body, she reconciled with the fact she could not bare to lose this battle of tolerance. She'd already lost the first round.

Hopping out of the scene as she frugally ignored any of the carnage, Chiara's ears twitched when there was a processed sound of marching in the distance; as soon as she'd brought herself to exit the doorway, she was overcome with the chill of the queasy midnight's air. It compressed her already shrunken breath, yet she persevered even at the point the marching approached closer.

To the evanescence phantom sounds, it turned in the submerged hallway, raised and frantic issues of warnings filling the air. The clatter of armour, flutters of banisters, metallic sheathing of weaponry and armoury began to vastly hasten in their streamlined path, as Chiara lugged them both in a flash down the corridor. Wherever the gushing wind took them, was the direction suited best!

As she paced down the polished floors, abruptly taking speedy twists and turns in the broad passages, she was forced to patter the soles of her sandals down the stairs leading into the courtyard, for the grim sight of the dead end barricaded in the corridor shifted her body. It was a rough endeavour attempting to haul the unconscious man sprawled against her back, and by the time she reached the outdoors, she was met with the ghostly image of dotted trees lining all around her. It was a daunting revelation.

The wispy rustles of the wind was tempestuous as it ran between the crevices of the woods' foliage, causing a bleak reverberation to echo in the interior of the hollow flat grounds. There was distinct gap between the edges of the looming forest, and the estate from what Chiara and Heisuke had barely staggered out of; the tension was thick enough for someone to begin dastardly running off into only god knows where. Seizing that thought, Chiara pressed on with a harrowed face yet continued to limp in a stumbled motion.

"There! By the outskirts of camp! Outmanoeuvre them rapidly!" Frenzied barks of issued orders managed to sneak under the woman's skin, causing her to flinch with a taste of decry. Wolffish noises erupted regardless, for they poured out of each fissure belonging to the estate; looking back at its intriguing style, the polished roof tiles as well as the many levels, truly made the woman ponder. Exactly, where were they?

She gritted her teeth with a noise of aggravation, for she was struck with a dilemma. What should she do next? Desperation gripped at her plight, for her mind concocted ill thoughts of Okita's health: where was he? What was he doing? Did... did he need her? Each envisioning eventually turned malicious, despite her best attempts to sway her pessimism. Okita, according to the woman whom was not Karen, was dead. Gone.

Okita Souji was a dead man.

A chill simultaneously cascaded down the woman's sloped back, before she was forced to stop. Before she was even able to blend into the outskirts of the forest's foliage, before she could even catch her breath. The paranoia within her eventually jerked her thoughts enough for her to root in her spot, sliding Heisuke off her lanky frame. As she stared off, her quaking fists were balled until they became numb, and cold.

In the past, many things had occurred between Okita, and his subordinate "Chikasa" - Chiara. Their relations were severely estranged.

Quarrels, detachment, mirth, squabbles, agreements, disagreements, departures, arrivals, rivalry, discipline, politics, race, religion, gender... it was as if all the forces of the universe repelled them from ever meeting, or even simply acknowledging each other. Whether it was saving one and another, or at each other's throats. At times, it became unbearable for the woman, so much so that she had gradually drifted away from the man. What could love, ever offer Chiara Corinne, and Okita Souji?

"I'm sorry, Heisuke," she drew a sharp breath, wiping her smudged bloody hands against her tattered hakama, slowly raising Heisuke into the bushes, "I'll be back in a second, I promise."

Her tone was solemn and low, ushering as her outstretched hands hastily drew branches and twigs covered in pine from the forest's undergrowth to hide his unconscious body. In response, he only stirred for a brief second, proceeding to snoozing on his side. This caused Chiara's hurt expression to float upon her visage, gnawing at her lower lip until her eyes were averted elsewhere. For the time being before she'd retrieve Okita, that was a makeshift spot for the pitiful lad.

Her erroneous trek was plighted once she'd begun to turn tail in the other direction, though cautious of the ever increasing clamour of cacophony pouring out of the gates of the estate; burrowing her bare neck into her kimono folds whilst raising her thighs in the utmost zip through the forest trail, she began becoming increasingly cautious of the erratic rustles that followed in her wake. Perhaps evident by the numerous piles of leaves in the undergrowth beneath her rapid steps, or in actual fact. Someone, or something, was in hot pursuit.

Noticing the spontaneous spur of her instincts shrilling in her ears, she flitted through the nearest exit out of the vegetation of the woodlands, for the coverage of the shadow was to their advantage. However, as she stumbled until tucking herself into a vigorous roll against the wet squelching grass blades, the figure responded in a versatile manner. They leaped over her head.

"!" She clenched her jaw, immediately whisking herself to her feet with the momentum of her fists grinding against the dirty to pause her rolling figure. When she cocked her head up, it became apparent to her acute senses, that the figure was more of a whom than a what. A man, judging by their exceptional speed and recovery of the sharp turn, clothed in dusty beige robes.

Furthermore, she was brilliantly caught off guard by his oozing saliva that seemed to be exfoliated out of his glands; it was something exuded, much like a rabid dog. And their eyes, oh their eyes! They reeked of a bloodlust that matched their scarlet hue; or was that stench formulated by their tattered, bloody clothes? Nonetheless, Chiara was abruptly determined to figure out exactly why they had pursued her; if it had not been for the memories of her past encounter with a fellow kind that matched his morbid appeal. She bulged her eyes.

Alert. He had the sort of presence... that meant the real agenda of his stalk, was for another matter; seeking prey. Ripping apart limbs, flesh,ligaments and whatnot.

Before she could act, the figure wretchedly jerked their hips frantically bounding towards her in a breach-animalistic manner. Quite overwhelmed, she proceeded to evade the clutches of their outstretched grip, recognising the hollowness of her side; for she was not equipped with a sword! How could she forget? At this dismay, she staggered down into the meadow, propped on her elbows to avoid any other injuries. She couldn't offer any more fight, especially in that horrendous condition of her body; at that point, she was merely acting on her bare resolve and naked will to live.

Cannibal... it's another cannibal...

Pressing forward, she made a break for it with her arid throat clamping up. She could only hope that the man - no, it, hadn't sniffed out Heisuke and his current location. Either way, as she lost herself in the thick luscious canopy of the trees when she'd limped towards another forestry, she was met with a serene sight.

A pale moon, followed by a precipitous drop. Chiara, was forced to stop on her tracks despite the bounding of the cannibal in hot pursuit. How did it even track her?

Regardless, she deftly positioned herself behind a tree's broad framework, pleading and pleading they hadn't noticed her haste of a swift turn.

Thank almighty! The maniacal creature of a human form managed to unwittingly run off the cliff's steep drop, the crumbling friable debris also freefalling alongside the cannibal. It let out a dumbstruck shrill of a shriek that protruded through the gloom of the forest. That, echoed as they plundered further and further into the contents of the lower ground. A sharp thud, followed by the flapping of erratic birds fleeting.

In good time, Chiara eventually plucked enough goodwill to peer down the sloped fringe of an edge, gulping down measly at the colossus fall. She could only gape at the vacuous area.

It had appeared, that down in the valley laid countless vast stretches of land dotted with phantom trees illuminated by the presence of the celestial rock; evergreen meadows and ravines that were snaked in between the gaps of mudhills and coniferous seemed utterly daunting for the pipsqueak solider. For she, had never experienced such euphoria of terrifying nature, ever in her existence.

As she crashed down onto the ground clasping ahold of the grass for a sense of gravity at the harbinger of death cliffside, she panted to allow the adrenaline to lift from her system. She was tired. Really, really tired. Her stamina needed at least a straight hour before it was replenished judging by the effort of her strained breaths.

Once following her harsh breathing pattern until her shoulders regained their composure, she sprawled herself on her front, chin thrusted outward to find... maybe some complacency to her situation. It was gravely outlived, for she was terribly fatigued.

Following her wandering gaze until again it reached the fringe of the cliff, though she was obliged to skitter her eyes elsewhere, she was caught with the glimmer of the moonlight deflect to her right. Following her slanted eyes with the slurred motion of her turned head, she was captivated by the slumped figure that almost drifted off the face of the crag. A lone, lone man.

Perhaps she was too flabbergasted with the breath leaving her body to react instantaneous, for she could only gaze in engrossment at their sleek curls of auburn wispy locks that fluttered in the mute breeze. Idly, she grasped ahold of another chunk of moist grass, attempting to seek their attention by thrusting it with her weaker hand, the left. The patch of dirt, did not reach afar only grazing their rear, nor did it seem to alert the presence at the face of the edge.

"Come back... it's dangerous leaning so close..." she slurred her drunkard speech with a mutter, rubbing her eyes disdainfully before finally soaking in their appearance. She was concerned.

Their sloped back made her presume they were moping, eyes diligently trained down on the depths of the drop. It was as if they were anticipating the fall, no matter how painful or how deep they would succumb. Chiara found this intriguing, following their mists of cold breath that were exhaled out of their nostrils, keeping their solemn restriction. Who would be willing to slide off? They were certainly awake, judging by their dilated fern eyes.

But alas, did she notice they were bound by a thin indefinite layer of ropes coiled around their wrists, tethered by an extra long rope which was snagged around a cluster of rocks. It was at a moderate distance, yet prevented the mute man from sliding off the cliffside; they were restrained, exactly like she was beforehand. Whom, was he?

Another breeze, meant that Chiara was jolted to her usual wits when the rope slipped, just for a splitsecond. She was unnerved! Why was she acting so nonchalant; the man was at a risk of plundering down the face of the rock! She immediately propped herself to her knees with a groan of elicited effort, shuffling closer until her body reached a prominent distance.

"Wait," she paused with waver at their arched spine, for they did not even tense at her approach, "can you move back? Please? HEY! WAIT!"

She was worried stiff, she could not bear to see someone right in front of her, slip to their doom. Despite unknowing of their actual consciousness, by the time the cluster of rocks had nudged itself to the point of unravelling the loose ropes, she was brought to a dilemma. Catch them, before it's too late!

Outstretching her arms as she flung herself from her position, she caught the man as she snaked her limbs around his chest, gingerly tugging him back before he could tilt with the crumbling edge's rubble.

"I got you... I got you," she soothed uncontrollably, her face pressed against their broad back. It wasn't a warm sensation, nor was it exceedingly cold; it fed her amounted ease. Again, no reception, which contrasted her relieved, unclouded visage.

Although, this triumph was instantly vanished by the time her fingers begun to ache uncontrollably, forcing her to wince and retract minimally. That small tip, managed to completely eradicate the balance once maintained, for the fellow was yanked downwards. Chiara's face was wrenched with horror at their slanted figure curbing off the edge.

Chiara shrieked, it was a noise she wasn't even sure she could congest. The unbearable sensation of someone slipping, drifting, pulling, retracting away until they were at the brink of the edge, meant she was left with an uncomfortable void. She was only able to maintain her composure, by grabbing ahold of the loosened rope which threatened to sink off the edge. Her own body was lifted over the edge itself, using leverage accreted by the foothold left by the straggly boulders.

As she was face to face with the enigmatic, sullen man, she could finally devour his appearance. His true face. Those rheumy glistening eyes that in actual fact, gradually diluted when they absorbed Chiara's features. Tension, arisen to bleak disappointment.

Okita.

Was there any more, she could say? With only a bare whisper that floated upon her curled upper lip, her widened eyes that ceased to close, as if she was staring death in the face itself? She was propped down to her knees, yanking at the rope in an bided, but vain attempt to refuse to let the man succumb to their doomed fate. There wasn't anything she could even say; the words, vowels, consonants, syllables, and letters seemed to vanish with a lone midwinter's gust.

They shared a unison of deviated gazes.

"Okita..." there was a bitter residue that refused to leave on Chiara's tongue, at that moment. Her face was enshrouded in a darkened, forlorn expression that seemed to match her torn demeanour.

He neither spoke nor did he match her countenance in those moments, it was as if the energy had evaporated from his body. It left the aftermath of a shell, his croaked tone that felt alien, due to its sheer rarity in abundance. Yet, he dourly recognised her. His old subordinate, his soldier.

"Just... go, please. This is the end for me," he brayed in a gentle caressing voice that held no anger, or any scorn towards his subordinate. He left no room for interjection, that was extenuated by his dimmed irises, "this is... the end of me."

Chiara was in total disbelief, shaken to the core. That led to her processed voice venturing out of her throat, a lot more aggressive than its actual message conveyed.

"No! I'll save you..." she grounded her clenched teeth together, palms profuse with sweat and scorching rope burn, "I god damnit, will save you!"

Neither of them held the energy, demeanour, or time to argue. Once another onward silence lingered past, Okita paused to sputter a deathly wet hack that was followed by a series of coughing fits, his eyes rimmed with darkened bags. He was tired, he always seemed tired those days, like an endearing winsome old man.

"Don't make this hard, Chiara," he winced, head ducked down to the sights laid below him, "it hurts me more than it hurts you."

On other miserable occasions, the woman would've taken the initiative to disagree. You're wrong, you're wrong - she would say. How could it hurt him more, when he'd refused to disband that plastered visage of utter prose? She was hurt so much more, she always kept her back straight and eyes ahead.

But on further inspection, his incapability to haul himself back to his own feet, meant that Chiara was truly faced with a man willing to drop. Willing to lose everything to selfishly plunder to their death.

Okita could've fluently clambered to his feet, yet there no signs of that ever a possibility. What did it lead to? What was the outcome of this?

"I just... I just," Chiara wallowed in her rising sobs that clustered in her parched throat, acting on pure stubborn instinct that matched a petulant infant. She wobbled in a low voice, "I don't want you to go..."

Okita's demeanour was still patient, maybe this was a rare face Chiara had never dreamt he'd wield in her lifetime. She could feel her own frustration building up within her until it was vented through childish outbursts, but Okita refused to snap at her. He calmed her down, that much was true.

"I know it seems kind of cruel... i'm sorry for hurting you always," there was a glimmer of self deprecation in his orbs as he handed her firm eyes, "but if you let me let it go, for once, then,"

Did it even matter anymore?

"Never! No! Not in a million years! And not now!" Chiara snarled, there was something about his acquiescence which made her angry. Furious. Enraged. She couldn't comprehend that after all her trials, tribulations, trauma and effort, that he , he would be the first to go. It overruled everything he taught her, and everything she stood for. Her tears were dried by the instant.

Little did she realise, Okita's face was harrowed with riddled guilt, frustrated agony, horror and heart wrenching despair. Maybe to save himself of having to explain why his face distorted in that way to her, maybe to save himself from exposing himself to that sense of vulnerability, he ducked his head down, never meeting her intent glare. He spoke in a small voice thereafter, shoulders stiffened with the fatigue of his contracted muscles; for he, was afraid.

"I'm so sorry... forgive me, that it's come to this," he stammered, though clearly the female solider had passed her leniency. Surprisingly enough, she recalled Ikedaya when Okita refused to back down even in his bloody crumpled state, always wanting to finish the match before it even started. Reduced to this state, angered the woman.

"Shut up shut up shut up! Don't you DARE speak like that! I won't let you have your way, and we can always have the chance to change! But..." she delved a much more quieter aspect, eyes refusing to close as she wiped the sweat clamping her cheeks with her shoulder blade, "I can't let you get away... to accept your fate so damn willingly, it makes me forget the real reason why..."

She abruptly paused, sending Okita's naive eyes obliviously stare her down. When she'd matched his gaze she was overcome with a sense of embarrassment, despite her raw efforts to convey a message to him. To make him understand.

"... why i'm always standing beside you, why i'm your subordinate in these bitter days." She concluded as she exhaled a finishing sigh of exasperation, her efforts louder for she was unsure if it had gotten through him. Judging by his awestruck expression, or was it awestruck? Nonetheless, judging by it, he wasn't at a conclusion just yet.

He was barely hanging on, when his feigned breath began to intensify; he was groped with a daunting realisation to his surroundings, the familiar face, the foreign tastes of the salty brew ringing in the air; he began to hyperventilate much to Chiara's dismay. His breath became erratic and contorted, eyes darting to and fro.

"OKITA!" Chiara hollered when the fickle rope slide around his fists slowly uncoiled in on itself, consequently leaving a consecutive gap for Okita's weight to drop in a second. He wasn't gone, although at that moment, Chiara truly believed so.

"You should learn to keep your promises Chikasa, dang it! You were about to break it by flailing off the slope!" An incoming voice broken the ultimate tension when Chiara was forced to contradict a new weight toppling behind her.

The woman couldn't come to grips or terms to the new situation, but she was relieved to heaven and back when the surprising figure that managed to trail back to her, eventually hauled the duo back to the flat surface.

That took awhile considering the brutal weight Chiara was attempting to compliment, but with the help of Heisuke Toudou's arms snaked around her torso to grip her back, Okita finally brought his feet onto the fringe of the cliff, landing face first with a grunt.

Chiara dunked down beside Heisuke, too nauseated to even mutter a salutation or even a grateful enquiry. She was mentally and morally enervated, which led to the collapse of her body and mouth pressed against the grimy mud. Head burrowed into the ground in her keeled over position, her limp arms were sprawled to her sides, proffering her lat ounces of strength.

Heisuke only handed her a look of utter confusion, laced with distress.

Heisuke's auspicious intrusion meant that the trio were final reunited, even exhausted at their breaching points. Chiara took to her instincts and instructed Heisuke to use her body as a propping frame for his energy malnourished body. Slipping an arm around his waist, she was able to perform a fully functioning walking assist, casually dismissing Heisuke's inclination on her own mortally constricting wounds.

Okita, on the other hand, took natural leadership and led the trio onwards. He did not know their destination, but floating in his mind was a vague idea; somewhere far away from the traumatic scene they'd been tethered too. He was mentally strained himself too, exceedingly after dangling off the edge of a cliff moments prior to their trudges in the forestry path.

The woodlands were irradiated by the blotted ablaze of the full moon hung low in the horizon seeping into the foliage of the canopies, illuminating their path with great hope. Okita, in the far distance spotted a large cart slanted against a birch tree, which he had hopes, would be a temporary makeshift camp for the night. Turning and gesturing to the others over his shoulder, he lightly jogged towards the appraised destination yet impatiently awaited the duo to stagger by.

Heisuke sinked into the cart with profuse ease, allowing Chiara to follow onwards with reluctance. Perhaps also submissive to his desires, Okita also followed the latter, mounting himself into the corner of the crammed mobile.

It was easy for the group to fall into a dreary night's slumber, listening in to the plodding of braying cattle and whistles of woodwork tow them away.


	3. 3 Bloodlust of Just

"The Abduction Arc - Stave Three"

1st P.O.V

There was an incoherent muffle of hullabaloo, for my ears hadn't adjusted just yet to the strange environment surrounding me. Perhaps it was the sheer strain on my ears, since there was the constant creak of a shaft constantly buzzing in my mind, alongside the belief there was a sort of beast lowing in rhythm to the plodding beat; was it fair to say I was just conjuring fallacies?

In fact, I wasn't even upright for starters; I'd sussed the point I was asleep before slowly coming to grips with my awakening limbs twitching and squirming. At a sheer comatose from the deprivation of sleep in the days beforehand, I was shifted momentarily on my back, before noticing the upheaval of a mysterious weight alarmingly latch onto my front. It rolled on top of me, before my eyes!

Gaping for a moment before my eyes were sharpened into a glare, I'd muttered my regular curse, awakening my limp joints to shove the mute weight suffocating my chest.

"Get off!" I hissed with a tremble. It was quite a lengthy push but eventually it was, in a convoluted manner, somewhat triumphant in effectiveness; no sooner had I shoved roughly, did the rustling weight break off into a shaken state, sputtering and moaning with a start. They proceeded to cautiously eye their surroundings.

"Lo! W-What?" The bleary eyed figure returned with a gawk, managing to slip off the animated mobile in which they were rooted prior, causing a catastrophic frenzy; it had come to my knowledge that stacked amongst the dormant figures, were tremendous piles of bruised, fresh, from gala to Granny Smith apples in their glory days.

But just then, had I received an instant whir of my mind; I'd just jostled the likes of Heisuke down the advancing cart, causing a strike of fruit to also follow in the aftermath. One by one they all dropped down, until my tear stained eyes were forced to observe my surroundings; we'd fallen asleep on a drifting cart all night, and luckily to our delight the owner hadn't just noticed our intrusion.

Well, after the brief cacophony of their finest delicacies plopping down onto the ground, I cringed evidently at the sounds of the clattering hooves screeching to a halt, shredded wheels breaking as the foreign murmurs of another being was the centre of my paranoia. Quickly, I tucked my legs inwards until they were drawn over my chest, shuffling against the floor until I was peering over the butt of the cart's rear.

"Heisuke! Get back here," I whispered harshly with my hands cupped around my mouth. Heisuke had accumulated a hefty distance away, and with a tentative glance over my shoulder, the additional sight of another snoozing beauty caught my attention.

Okita didn't seem impressed with our antics, for his face was enshrouded with an ill tempered expression. Certainly, he'd been awake the entire time I'd given Heisuke the almighty heave! Hands neatly bundled over his chest interlocked, he was in a back-down position tucked neatly into the far corner, offering only a measly look up at me.

"You could've kept up the facade for a while, you two," he muttered, vivid moss eyes that twinkled with the early sun rays shut, as he shrugged with a bleak demeanour.

At first it came to my belief he was rather enraged, yet with another blink he didn't seem all too bothered. Passive. Fatigue. Maybe even temperamental? I couldn't tell, especially with a half-gaze over my shoulder. However, I was rather distraught, hands bundled as I was about to offer remark in return; he truly didn't help, not with those bitter comments!

With not a moment's bliss to lose, whilst the apparent cattle lowed in an earth-quaking tone, the owner of the grindingly haltered cart stalked their way around the corner of the mobile. Their straw coolie hat slapped off their head, alongside their fumingly beetroot red expression, they began to muster many vulgarities, spouted curses and incantations with series of indistinct gestures.

We'd all suffered a beating; yes, even petrified and uninvolved Heisuke too was reprimanded with a tyrant fist. He didn't stop complaining that night. Scampering away meant we'd also had to drag Okita, before he was let loose on the poor elderly traveller.

"This is utterly worse than my previous situation. I guess I'm always stuck with the Shinsengumi no matter where I go..." Heisuke muttered callously with a sullen expression, sucking at his cheeks inwardly before kicking loose pebbles in the gravel path.

"Cheer up Heisuke. At least we're not dead." I remarked with a casted foul look over my shoulder, perhaps internally praying that no more cannibals would ever be set loose on my heels ever again.

Okita bent down in the bushes with his knees tucked inwards, scooping at what appeared to be a single strand of a grass blade. Sliding it between his teeth, he resumed the pace further into the forestry, which was quite at a remarkable distance away from the likes of myself and Heisuke. He chattered his teeth, clearly suffering from the late winter weather.

"So, what next? Any suggestions chaps? How about we all start to sing to our merry heart's' content?" Okita kept his sardonic remarks and bestowed them to us, much to our dismay; even if there wasn't a slight smile on his forlorn expression puckered on his lips, he must've assumed it was lighthearted humour. It only made myself, and Heisuke grim in unison.

"I don't know... we've all got our separate places to go," Heisuke replied with a stagger, before slapping his temple at a revisiting ponder, "A-And, where's our location? Chikasa, any thoughts?"

They both turned with the same regular expressions plastered on their faces, yet I shrugged for a moment at their insight. However, with careful analysis and slipping my conscious back to the previous night's carnage, I envisioned how the enigmatic, yet utterly insidious woman known as "Yama Uba" had introduced the setting; it wasn't in Kyoto, but rather, a domain owned by the infamous Tosa.

"Something about Tosa lords, does that ring any bells? Anyone?" I offered with a raised brow, sliding my thumb over my lips to erase any traces of potential white lies that skimmed my mind; I couldn't lie, it was easier handing out intel that made all our lives easier.

"Ah," Okita seemed to be relieved, a relaxed noise that caressed his throat slipped across his mouth, "that's good, I suppose. Tosa owns the Ōgaki Domain, which is about a lengthy trek from Kyoto. About two days, as the crow flies?"

"I don't remember that..." Heisuke dwindled on long past information, shoulders hunched as he hopped on a tree log. It caused me to reminisce, commenting on how infant-like Heisuke's hobbling body seemed to mimic; though I kept those thoughts to myself, instead keeping track of Okita's sharp wit.

"But we got to keep the routes in check and the amount of rest we have! And the food and water necessary..." I trailed off as I was quite relieved at the insinuation to leave the forest trail, since the deeper we plunged, the more hectic things would become, "shall we head to a residential town area?"

"Yeah! Let's go!" Heisuke chipped in, hopping off the log with a clap of his dusty hands and the slap of his hip. Suddenly, presumably at the dreaded realisation he'd not sensed the presence of his gear, he began to moan, crouching down into the ground. "Oh no no no no! My katana! My armour! My Goryo-Eji garbs!"

"You don't need the Guard kit anymore sunshine, they're all-," Okita sneered and was about to continue explaining something morbid, yet I bent down beside Heisuke, offering moral support and an instant word. Secretly, I was glaring in a livid bout towards Okita.

"Heisuke! Yo, I'm sure you can replace those blades with enough mustered tokens. How about we head to the nearest village to stack up on vital stuff?" I frowned for an abrupt second, recalling the confiscation of all our possessions. Money included.

"But those blades... irreplaceable... no..." Heisuke whimpered, but with enough yanking of hauling him to his feet and piped encouragement, he eventually caved in with heavy reluctance. Our next goal in mind, which was agreed by the whole company, was to head to the nearest village to resort to stacking up on essentials, alongside tools that did not need a sufficient license.

Grovelling through the grove of dense woodlands, appreciating the habitual wildlife of rodents and raccoons, the early morning's stunning raw sunlight shone in our eyes, obscuring the paths on multiple occasions. Okita diligently suggested that the best mode of trek was to stick to the clearings of undergrowth and never the merchant's route, for the packed trails would result in another encounter with the familiar figures of the near-past. Heisuke gulped down his words with wide eyes, tediously rubbing at the fresh scabs across his cheeks with a tearful look.

It took awhile before finally arriving at our designated location, painstaking hours of constant moderate pace. When we'd reached a few posts and bulletin boards which belonged to the nearest village, it was at that point in the journey that the unvoiced agenda, was to seek the closest armoury of a sort. Slipping down the most narrowest routes covered in rich yet trimmed vegetation, the infused wildlife and human population truly was a great indication that the village was sparse!

Reaching the roost of the suburban life, was the village centre. It was quite an arduous task to avoid attention, yet with our tattered and shredded kimono, sweat-profuse cheeks and ruddy slick hair, it was unmistakably the talk of the village; ushering maidens clutching at their fellow friends in gossip, or snoozing constable officials taking a prolonged nap in the sun, decked under a pine tree.

Nonetheless we took about our latched wits and began snooping around, casually peeping into stores that were shut for the season, or quaint gardens that were tiled with regal textures; it was at that point breaching an hour into our tour of the area, did we sag our shoulders in agony. Slacking heels truly were brought to a staggering halt, meeting up at the same centre of the village in a circle.

"I can't find any blacksmiths, or any good stores, and all the food stands are quite expensive. Is this place even hostile?" Okita snapped as we vehemently shook our heads in agreement, though Heisuke's deviating eyes set us in a frenzy. His jaw was slanted, drooping down until it grazed his kimono. Crowding around the lad whom appeared to be enraptured by the site of a mini festival covered by the awning of an open gyoza dumpling stand, for he proceeded to speak.

"Look at the prizes! They're... they're our stuff!" He blared out in full confidence, index finger jabbing at the empty air with harrowed eyes.

Okita and I shared looks of dubious reproachfulness, for the lad was prone on many occasions to play mischievous and awkward pranks. However, by the time we'd shuffled in a cluster towards the market's buzz, it became to our acknowledgment that the owner of the rouse was none other than a boastful, pot-bellied merchant. With tasteful enquiries and masterful gestures, they proceeded to enunciate with their impressive vocal range, that their haul on the journey to that fateful village, meant they'd able to salvage at a Toudou Domain's infamous pair of katana. And well, some "other rusty blades", that were all found in shrubs and prickly hedges.

At the sounds of his beloved gear being sold away to oblivious villagers, it took a great deal of energy to hold the hyperventilating Heisuke back from charging into the crowds with talon-like fingernails brandished. He began to shake in retort, wagging his fingers and clenching his teeth; at last did Okita finally declare his new mission of retrieving the weeping Heisuke's adorning weapons. And our luggage of course.

"HOORAH!" The satisfied tubby merchant very much took into consideration at a rapid instance, of Okita's sentiment. However, that gracious pudgy smile soon crept down their mouth and revealed a horrified, repugnant snarl when the curt man hoisted the pot-bellied figure over his shoulder within a second, before placing him aside. He could hardly sputter the price of the combat weaponry, before Okita took action.

At that simultaneous moment, the crowd began to substantially increase with bystanders gaping at the likes of Okita Souji ransacking the merchant's property. Scavenging through with his hands dived at precise angles, he was eventually successful with locating his brandished katana as well as other items; proceeding onwards did he reel out from the bundled sacks, mine and Heisuke's own gear.

He seemed content with his haul, slinging the compact gear against his broad back, as he stalked back to our situated spot behind the crowd. However, Okita could not simply ignore the flabbergasted sputters of the merchant stating his rights and property, alongside the feathered lot of the crowd nodding in solemn agreement.

Whereas I and Heisuke, were brimming with appointed bewilderment; it became apparent to my comprehension, that beforehand, the female figures hidden within the Tosa Estate, truly felt nothing to our Shinsengumi blades. Perhaps that must've led them to assume the steel was useless, thereafter discarding them in the forest? I stumbled beside Okita, who casually brushed off the villagers with a heated look.

"Thank you..." I muttered whilst trailing off, noticing his icy expression drift elsewhere, though still robotically handing me my blades, Shinsengumi haori, in a cluster.

Of course, I was obliged to step away, when Heisuke raced forward to grasp at his own steel in a frenzy.

After Okita's fraternisation with the fellow populous, we resorted to seeking refuge amongst the woodlands once more, keeping the sun on our backs in the direction favoured. At an instant though, as the day lingeringly crawled to early noon, it was clear that we'd been neglecting our innermost need of nourishment - food. It lurked in our parched throats, diluted eyes and our agape lips, despite all efforts to keep our driven instinct at bay.

Through a passageway tunnel enshrouded with shrubs and loose brambles, we eventually came past a humble boulder against a patch of dense trees, engraved with the characters of the destination to Mt. Shogatake - stated aloud by Heisuke's peering eyes. It would take 22 km, roughly 5 hours before reaching that landmark up ahead. Before that, it was necessary to engross oneself to a pit stop, which we proceeded to relieve ourselves of beside the nearest waterfall's shore at the end of the passage.

The viridescent pools encircling the flowing gushes of sprouted water, were hidden within clusters of protruding aquatic rock structure. The glimmering gushes, which were situated between the crevices of weathered stones lodged in the foundations of the mount, seemed to depict a rather fantastical approach to the rural lands; as we wandered from the woods adjacent to the wondrous waterfall, we immediately scooped at the refreshing water source, attempting to bowl with our tattered, dusty hands.

As the time passed, we sought refuge beside a cluster of compact trees hidden to the left of the spectacular Yōrō Falls - again, rehearsed in a loud voice aloud by the likes of Heisuke. Using bits of leftover scraps of tattered cloth, twigs and scavenged stones, I took ahold of the duty to recreate a fireplace. Heisuke, was enlisted to scourge for our next meal paddling complacently in the water, whilst Okita... was currently replenishing his energy, dormant against a tree.

Regardless, we all fulfilled our jobs with ease; perhaps there was a minor hindrance in stoking the hot fumes of the petulant fire, when I tended to creating minimalistic wooden bowls, carved from discarded logs found in the depths of the coniferous lands. It was quite a lengthy production using the blunt edge of my unsheathed tantō to delicately carve away the bark of the stripped logs. In fact, I was just about finishing off the last of the dish ware, when I felt my peeping voice enlarge to create fickle conversation.

"Last night, I met the most strangest woman. Only thing is, I'd met her before," I pondered for a second whilst allowing the gravel of my grave tone sink into the atmosphere, admiring the sleek texture of the shaped bowl before proceeding, "I'd met her at Shimabara a few winters ago, and then after a brawl with those red-eyed cannibals..."

Heisuke, whom was deeply engraved with his reflection upon the shallows of the glistening water's surface, was harrowed with a surprising look of eloquent steadiness over his shoulder, immediately meeting the attentive coolness of Okita's rapid gaze. They both shared a curt nod, as he parted his lips towards me.

"Rasetsu; furies," he handed me a severe expression, flickering away loose curls with the back of his wet palm, "tricky business and hard to cooperate with."

"Go on," Okita too, pepped into the dialogue with a gesture. Perhaps this sense of urging had intrigued me for a second, sparking an unlocked desire to spill to my heart's content, if only to please them. How infantile could I possibly be?

I seldom retorted back after awhile, keeping to myself whilst peering into the crackles and snaps of the quaint fireplace below me. Truth be told, I'd attempted to avoid any contact with my right hand's thumb, as it still hadn't healed, thus leaving a brittle, swollen pale colour that devoured the innards of my hand. I stared down at it, dumbfounded.

"After the encounter with - that thing you've both named - that woman appeared out of nowhere, and it came to my intuition that she was supposedly trailing the thing... rasetsu. And surprisingly enough, she'd dropped a package," I paused with hesitation at their deviated gazes, clearing my throat to brush away flecks of hair from my view, "a vial. And I guess I've kept it to this day, thinking it wasn't important. That's all there is to it..."

"Huh..." Heisuke returned with flickered eyes that seemed to appear rather distant and guilt-ridden for a second, only to resume his speech, "you knew all that, but you didn't tell us, Chikasa?"

I grimaced for a second, revelling in his hurt expression. No doubt, Heisuke's pained expression oddly my enough brought me the strangest ache in my dull chest, that caused me to rethink my whole mindset; I'd supposed that my input wasn't valid towards the greater good, being as I hailed as a simpleton of a foot solider; only real exception was that I was female. It didn't even make me an exception, nor was I a potential liability to the group.

Chikasa wasn't even my real name. And I was dying to perceive Okita's reaction, though I didn't keep my hopes up in fear of being disappointed once more.

"I thought my perspective wouldn't be important," I slivered my tongue over my bottom lip, coating it with a layer of perplexed saliva, "Captain Heisuke, I'm only here because I dragged everyone into my own unfinished business. I'm at fault."

The inescapable enrapture of the Silence's jaws were inexplicable, for the intel I'd finally managed to bestow to the duo was something completely on a whim. As only the erratic rushes of coursing water bodies surged in our ears, spittles of droplets bouncing on the riverbed, it was at last overcome by a frustrated Heisuke paddling his hand against the flat surface, leaving only a tidal waves of ripples which bounced in hurt confusion. As he renounced his duty, he sat upright with his calves tucked underneath, hands placed over his thighs to don a refined posture.

"I'll go check my snares in the woods," clicking his tongue, Heisuke spoke in a reproachful tone that was as low as a passive wildebeest, sauntering past the site of camp with averted eyes; the sheer driving motion of his aggressive pace that kicked the rotted leaves strewn across the floor, had caused me to wince severely as I turned to watch him leave. Indeed, he appeared to be fuming; but why exactly had he turned bitter with me?

Was it because I was simply dishonest? The many scenarios floating in my head were incomparable to my pounding heart inflicting a mass throb to my temples, clenching the half-chiseled remnants of the pottery.

The fire began to wane in its wake, as if the hot temptress had been sated; crackles, pops, snaps and whistles had eventually died down, as I begun to contemplate its existence. When already it was high noon, why had I begun an inferno to begin with, that rose with pewter fumes and ignited orange combustion? As my shoulders sagged with my eyes heated in intent nonchalance peering into the fire, I was flabbergasted when the likes of Okita spoke up, after the prolonged silence.

"The sooner we locate a proper route back to Kyoto," Okita quivered, "the quicker I can get back to work."

For a brief moment, I was unsure if the statement was supposedly aimed at me, or whatnot. Was he speaking to oneself, and no one in particular? Running a hand through my hairline whilst bouncing back the tufts of unruly hair, I regained a tranquil expression, eyes thinned at the carnage of the camp; excess kimono which was thick with stench and grime in their own discarded piles, buckles belts and scabbards belonging to the equipment and armoury, alongside our futile attempts of food dished out against the flat surface of a tilted stump. I couldn't exactly voice anything, for there was nothing to say to Okita Souji.

"Really? I guess so..." I fabricated a disinterested sigh, tightened expression depicting my weary narrowed eyes that did not seek anything in particular. I hadn't a motive for a discussion with the likes of the man, especially discovering his twisted, cruel nature I hadn't a foggiest idea of; envisioning the depths of his vacant expression, the inner desire...

Okita rustled in his spot for a second, wavering as the conversation did not do him any good. It was fickle, exactly like my heart regarding his likely ulterior motive.

"Do you think Kondou is freaking out right now?" He donned an exasperated chuckle, the slight noise of his sandals behind me clutching at autumn leaves.

"... yeah." I replied back, flexing my severely injured thumb back and forth with my left palm. It scorched my muscles immediately, cursing rapidly as I waved my wrung wrist with vigour.

Again, an issued silence no one had particularly vouched for; one could remark it was utterly deplorable and useless, but I had nothing to express before Okita. Did he even care what I thought of Kondou? I certainly expressed one alarming emotion.

Only, fear.

He was spontaneous, I could never track exactly what he was thinking, doing, or even speaking. A psychopath. Even then, I was baffled by his futile attempt at a conversation, to which I easily dissuaded with subtle aggression and bleak expression. But alas, did I recall when he gripped at my throat, his throttling eyes that drowned all of anything else; the way he effortlessly charged into anything with only his own selfish regard and esteem.

I was mortally afraid, that one day and again, would I be at the brunt of his steel blade. And he, would feel nothing. No remorse, no repent, and certainly no regret. He could kill me, and that fact alone was nothing to romanticise; I had my own morals and goals despite his initial help guiding me down the bushidō path, therefore it took a damn miracle even sharing the same space as him. I was overthinking for god's sake!

"You won't even look at me, Chiara?" His deteriorating voice struggled to cope with the jaws of the uncertain conversation, only leaving a wispy aftermath followed by a thud of his back leant against the stark tree.

Tempted to meekly nod, although that wasn't something obtained in my receptors, for the stimulus of his decried voice shook my mind. I really, truly wanted to ignore him, or at the very least, have the comfort of Heisuke beside me to continue the desultory chatter. Then, it was just a morbid reprimand that our bonds were definitely severed.

I took a discreet look at him. Looking was only half the effort it took, to truly absorb his heart-smearing features; clad in his sleeping chiffon white robes that the Shinsengumi offered, hoping in return for his ailing recovery. Underneath, was his lavender tinted undergarments which were far too devitalising and deprecating in tone; it was as if the sullen colour was slowly sucking out his core energy, which could partially be the result of his weary eyes. Draped over his shoulders was the torn but previously regal cerulean haori that reached his mid-calf, complimenting his broad stature though it felt in my opinion, too large over his shrunken frame. He'd changed, time was a factor of that change.

Why, had I saved him?

A dilatory shrill of a recognisable voice thundered from within the forest's lair, causing us both to jolt in unison. Dropping all idle accessories yet still clasping ahold of the tantō knife in my left hand, I immediately bolted upright to Okita's astonishment. From there, did I truly view Okita's laidback demeanour, evoking abhorrence across my face.

Eventually, he broke into a gasping fit of sleezy hacks as he keeled over, deluged with a riddled, demoralised expression. Initially, I was mislead by his overgrown lack of movement as selfishness, before finally the realisation daunted me; he was saving his energy for important sessions, thus having to sleep all the time. As I docked my head down with every step into the woods, I cautiously handed him a demure nod, understanding that I truly was unbeknownst to the symptoms of Tuberculosis.

Breaking into a muscle-aching dart towards the woods, swatting away the vines and overgrown branches that hung above, I was alas edging nearer and nearer to the destination of Heisuke's strangled cries. At that point, I slurred my footsteps, waddling tentatively with parted lips that often called out in reproach. Heisuke, Heisuke! I found myself reaching further into the wood with a more hardened look, shoulder blades fluently contorted to evade the passing obstructions of trees.

When I finally reached the destination, I was more or less struggling to come to grips with the situation, Heisuke had landed himself in.

Stranded in the air by his right ankle, Heisuke's contracted ape-like arms were barely grazing the ground, swinging lo and there by a single strand of vine. When he issued a gasp at my presence, he suddenly began squirming as if he were mortally flustered, waving me off with breezy jazz hands. He handed me a grimace, stating he was merely caught in a snare.

"I uh... that dang rabbit slipped out my hands! I'm honest here Chikasa!" He exclaimed with profuse sincerity.

Blinking for a few moments before gradually lowering my murderous weapon, my shoulders were elevated to my ears whilst handing him a bewildered expression. What on Earth?

Finally, the warmth in my heart bursting out of its cage surged until it reached my visage, breaking into a soft laugh. A laugh. It was a whimsical note. Then it turned harder, louder, and more hysterical; there truly wasn't a point to my laugh. A pointless laugh, to a pointless scenario.

"Heisuke... Heisuke! You idiot!" I was shedding tears of intense mirth whilst wiping them away, the hoarse cackle that escaped my windpipe surely scared the fellow. Everything else, retreated into a blur that day.

It was an alien noise I didn't even know I could concoct, nor something I could ever create in bemuse to Heisuke; how could he get himself in such a position? Who could ever get themselves in such a position! Only Heisuke! I was thoroughly pointing at him, bending over to vainly stifle my uncontrollable raucous laughter.

Little did I realise, the laugh became somewhat affectionate. Tender...

"Chikasa... Oi! Quit laughing! Get me down now!" He pleaded, shaking his head instantaneous as his bangs were flying in any direction. In response to my girlish laugh, he was rapidly begging me to release him, unbeknownst that he too, was rattling a gentle chuckle.

A few hours later

At the summit of Mt. Shogatake, which was brought to our visions through painstaking treks through the treacherous paths snakes within dwells of valleys, across riverbeds and in the winter forests. At times the scenery was rather hard to part from, especially having to view the stunning sun melt down into the horizon, leaving only trails of shimmering, wandering sunlight. In good time, our restless staggers was met with the darkness of the day; alas, was another time to set camp.

The captured fish which were snatched by the bait, forest rodents caught by the snares, wild berries picked off the branches and mustered mint leaves found in the undergrowth of bushes, were all the three of us could scavenge by the end of the day; utilising our brand new bowls to scoop the fresh water reservoirs found in the riverbanks, it took hefty patience and grovelling by the fireplace to sterilise the water.

At first I was quite arrogant, simply believing the past-dwelling folk of the Shinsengumi couldn't comprehend the science behind the method; yet by the time Okita guided us through a step-by-step of obtaining the water and even cooling it down afterwards, I truly believed I was the naïve one as night engulfed the camp, leaving me to sourly chew at the fire-roasted carp on my lap. Heisuke, observing my petulant insolence and scrunched up nose, immediately grasped ahold of my dinner when I offered him a deadpanned countenance. He could have the damn fish all he liked.

It was well past the enthralling call of nightfall, evident by the hoots of distant birds or whatnot. The shivers cascading down my spine that were brought by the waves of rustling foliage and evergreen had led me to become rather distraught; was it possible to catch pneumonia and pass away in my sleep? That dang thought kept me awake all night, even when sharing that idea with the rest of the group just to calm my paranoia. I certainly didn't want to feel that cold, even tucked against the tree with my limbs inward against my chest.

There was a mute understanding amongst us, that we were to all sleep at a certain curfew in the night. Maybe it was mere telepathy, that we were all tucked in before one of us could chime "goodnight" or give precautions of any wandering beasts in the night. Okita even instigated that we could be shrivelled up by bed-bugs if we weren't wary enough, and by the time he fell asleep ahead, I felt another searing chill down my collarbone. I growled at him.

From across his bedding, laid I, against a tree with eyes as wide as a barn owl awaiting their prey; I didn't feel like sleeping at all. If there was a hint of sleep-deprivation across my face it would've shown by then, for I hadn't a wink of proper sleep for a whole week. I couldn't possibly reveal my rupture to my hip that throbbed with increasing pain, over ever dabbing blotted sheets of soiled cloth to prevent the spread of bacteria; when it came to the situation regarding my slit palms and dislocated thumb, it was in my best interest to completely avoid touching them or using them in practical sessions.

Arm slanted over my knee that was tucked into my chest, head propped against the bark, and anon did I spot Heisuke shuffling beside me clad with only his undergarments. I bestowed him a gentle smile that seemed to beckon his body, alleviating the grim thoughts I'd burrowed myself with beforehand.

Fortunately, he didn't pent any frustration similar to the prior situation, perhaps leading to us making amends internally. I greeted him with a fatigued nod and diminished smile again, as he too propped himself against the nearest tree beside me. He approached me with his own glimmering smile that beamed an amiable demeanour, comically cocking his head back at the dormant Okita on the ground.

"It's still a mystery how Souji's sleeping so soundly. I still feel trauma after encountering those dastardly pigs." He chuckled surprisingly enough in a low tone which was a remarkable difference from his usual peppy pitch, as I was brought to believe he truly was growing up. It was quite intimidating in my mind, nodding vehemently.

"He needs that sleep... I'm glad he's asking it easy." I retorted in a reproachful voice, handing Okita a flickered look in his direction. Truth be told, it was a relief he wasn't as determined as before to get back on his feet... even if it showcased his desperate situation.

"Uh huh," Heisuke broke out into a soft brazen chuckle as he ran his fingers through his delicate voluminous locks, before furrowing his brow. It was as if he'd finally grasped on something, leading him to timidly turn his head back to me, unsure with his lips rugged down in disdain. "Say... you really love him, don't you?"

At those drastic words I immediately ushered him with a jagged finger driven against my lips, silencing him with a furious glare. In unison, we nonchalantly turned our heads to Okita's unconscious body drifted off to the wonderland of the dream realm, until I thought for a second, wavering. There wasn't a use of blatantly brushing off the lad's keen instinct, nor attempt to insult Okita whilst he laid in the brimming cold.

Fixating my eyes elsewhere, I gnawed at my lower lip, "I don't know anymore... it's hard to get through to him. I just... feel like it's useless, pointless and pitiful of me to feel that certain way. I do love him."

At my confession, Heisuke rapidly rustled in his wake, drawing his kimono over his bare shins with gritted teeth. The weather hadn't taken a turn for the worse, thus we were inclined to strip from our primary gowns and sleep in our undergarments, using the robes as a means of a cover to tuck ourselves into bed. Yet, neither of us had a bed, a proper duvet, or full bellies. Perhaps, that was the reason Heisuke's face was clouded with distress in those tender moments.

"Souji... He's just like that, Chikasa. Sure he can be..." he let out an exasperated laugh, eyes wandered ahead with a nostalgic face, "annoying, sarcastic, egotistical, selfish... mean, even; but I've never seen him look the way he looks with you. It's strange, but true."

Heisuke deviated his eyes back at me, and I felt my heart flutter with his intense brutal stare, and intimate words. They were ever so straightforward, despite the brittle edge to the late evening freezing our body temperatures. The way he looks with you... it wasn't true. Heisuke was wrong like anyone else in my life; he could offer such sentimental words, but at the end of the day, they would never apply with Okita Souji.

I scrunched the bridge of my nose, garnering Heisuke's surprise, yet continuing to speak in a crude tone.

"Whatever happens, I know from firsthand experience that Okita Souji's heart is devoured with a cold emotion; the longing to fight; any means, any how, for himself. Heisuke, your words are valid in my heart and mind, but," my tone seeped with self-loathing, eyes narrowed down at the dismal ground as I spat, "it was my mistake for putting faith in such a crude devoid emotion! Love! Hear hear... I was desperate."

Heisuke seemed to dislike what I'd insinuated, snapping back with sharpened eyes.

"No!" Soon after, he was caught in a withdrawal, murmuring at his defensive remark, "you're wrong... Souji... there's more to him than meets the eye. You're just denying the fact you trust him... he's... he's..."

I casted my low gaze in his direction, offering him a look of distinct empathy with my eyebrows furrowed. There was a tang in my tongue that resided due to our conversion, urging me onward to learn; Heisuke was attempting to defend Okita desperate also vainly endeavouring to reason with my apathy regarding the man, which therefore made me curious.

"Do you know such things about Okita, Heisuke Captain?" I brushed my knees against my elevated chin, my tone mixed with fragments of enquiry as well as a complicated sense of imbroglio to his logic; I just felt like he was wrong for many reasons unknown.

"Well," he started, before cracking a small smile in my direction; it was quite a rouge, ambitious expression, "I remember one instance with him, and i'm only going to tell you this if it strictly stays between us! You're an exception, because you love him."

Love him - that phrase tickled my neurones sifting and surging in my mind, resonating with a hint of pleasure. I attempted to overrule this with lucid logics; Okita abhorred me. He disliked my presence and though it wasn't stated as often as it would appear to be, he considered me a burden of an anchor weighing him down.

"Alright Heisuke, I'll put my faith in you," I finally exclaimed in mid-yawn, perhaps the first elicited yawn I'd created in a millennial. Funny enough, Heisuke soon after reciprocated the motion, suggesting the sheer infectious yawn.

"Hmm..." Heisuke began fluently rapping his fingers deftly against his quirked chin, momentarily slipping a hand down his collar parting to expose his defined collars, rubbing them tediously with his knuckles.

"How do I start?"

3rd P.O.V

Heisuke recalled many winters ago, when he was assigned in a patrol Faction alongside another swordsman by the head chiefs of the police force, instructed to co-work with one another. The day prior to the strict command, he was sure that the simple fervent greeting he would give to his partner, was something typical and eventually dismissed. With a large grin that hinted at a rather smugness, he was sure to introduce himself rather amiably and suave.

But alas did the lad shrink down in retort to the sight of the perfect man turning heel and facing the young Toudou with a forlorn expression. He didn't feel so jovial after all. Initially, Heisuke was caught with an indescribable harshness in those vivid jaded eyes, sputtering as he bowed frantically in a low stance.

"Pleasure's mine," the fern eyed man's stance definitely toppled the likes of Heisuke, waving him off with a simple gesture and snarky tone.

Heisuke wasn't sure exactly how to approach the man, therefore he resided beside the taller, much older figure's side, as many other men tagged along too with their instructions etched to their agenda. Heisuke took a grand inspection at the figure's content expression, his own faced harrowed to a somewhat skeptical visage; he didn't really care who he was, as long as he'd gotten the money afterwards, and the right amount of food to replenish his sore tummy.

Onwards were their tasks laid ahead; these appeared easygoing and trivial day-to-day instructions, such as tending to the stores that were issued taxes, and to fend off the disobedient outcasts whom refused to abide by the laws. It was all child's play to the ecstatic Heisuke, whom readily pounced at every opportunity to jump into any brimming action.

As Heisuke took no caution nor heed to the carefully initiated program, blissfully zipping across the streets and avenues with a sprawled smirk, he was uprooted for a second, on the journey travelling back to his issued partner. That same, eager smile smoothly transitioned to a plastered, rather ugly look of utmost horror on the bright day's overcast.

There, on the streets for all to ogle, was a few thrashing and clamouring figures in a heated passive-aggressive environment. Their growling expressions were heightened by their peremptory tones that held no denial, for the situation was apparent; the woman had accused another woman of pickpocketing from her jacket whilst leaving it unattended by the tailor's store. The other, filled with rage and disbelief, roared in response that she wouldn't be held accountable for such a diabolical misdeed; by the looks of their swaying fists, it was sure that the situation was slowly turning physical.

Heisuke, whom was gaping by the sidelines, fell into a state of perplexed morales; should he retreat and inform the other men of the squabble? Investigate himself and intercede with wariness? He was likely to be thrown in the crossfire, no doubt.

It was gradually forming quite a sparse crowd in good time, and the lad was left swaying back and forth in a torn demeanour. He was left quite in a hasty peril, realising this was a daily task he would eventually have to learn to overcome living in the Shinsengumi.

A moment.

Heisuke became awfully breathless when a figure brushed past him, leaving their fluttering Shinsengumi blues shimmering in the lucid sunlight. Furrowed with a perturbed countenance, for it was perchance that the figure was attempting to sort out the fistfight amongst hens. Phenomenally taken aback by the attentive punctuality of the arrival, Heisuke recognised their arched topknot that was bundled on their head, loose curls bouncing at their shoulders with every waking approach towards the dilemma.

Had he caught the scene too fast? Too slow? Nonetheless, he was baffled when the man none other than his partner, had interpreted the scenario with ease; fluently rooting himself amongst the women, groomed eyebrows drawn in genuine concern. In his plight, he called out to the sworn enemies, attempting to solve the issue at hand.

The women responded with alert facades as they turned, offering harsh remarks, and humoured flares. Before Heisuke knew it, they were utterly mocking the Shinsengumi man for ever taking the time out of his schedule to sort out the brawl. What ever could a Shogunate dog ever do?

Heisuke was sure enough from there, that the man needed assistance; was he ready to... cut down a woman? Heisuke gulped in the daunting realisation, shaking his head internally. No, not ever. He wasn't prepared.

However, the affirmed man did no such means of cutting down the woman, neither did he crack his fist against their slacked jaws. Instead, he responded with a smoothly elicited, caressing sigh as he handed them his most polite face. He began to digress, his mouth opened to begin spilling the most profound, yet... eerily perfect speech. It was as if his mind had transcended from the atypical means of a Samurai, and truly wielded a resolve to conclude the mishap.

The women seemed stunned in accounted silence, almost afraid for a wincing moment to even confide in the young man. Slowly, the accuser jabbed her finger at the woman, carefully stating with dull eyes, and nonsensical facts of the scene that took place. The man, only vehemently bobbed his head along, lifting his arm to gesture in obedient silence for the accused woman to also plead her defence. She too, poured out her innocence towards the duo, shaking her head with wretched sentimentality and rheumy eyes. She'd needed the money so bad, for her infant daughter.

Heisuke couldn't believe his partner, he simply couldn't comprehend a single patient man would absorb the verbal abuse, and in response, bring forth a peaceful solution to the calamity. And from there, did he truly comprehend, the young man's innermost desire of one objective; justice. It was obtained through pacifism and no fists involved, only a calm demeanour.

Gawking, the scene was prolonged enough, until the young Shinsengumi reached a satisfactory moment to rumple into his chest pocket. He revealed two ripe brindled persimmons that were unharmed, unbruised and healthy in texture. Twiddling them in his two palms with his rotating thumbs, he raised them both before the tranquil females, awaiting for moments before they gingerly reached out to clasp the fruits.

He unleashed a devilish smirk.

In a prowess voice, he declared that neither should lose nor transfuse anything to the other; gaining equality and respect for one another was the approach participants should be seeking. At the end of the day, they were still habituated in the same district, city, street, land, country, continent, and world.

The handsome man elicited a soft chuckle, shoulders tilted inward, before turning their head over their shoulder to meet Heisuke's petulant gaze.

Okita, handed him a quirked smile that bore pearly teeth, before winking right at him.

"!" From then on, Heisuke knew that there were tribulations in the forked road of the Shinsengumi, but to become highly esteemed much like his partner, was his secret goal. He'd wanted, to try and surpass the man in both speed and mentality; what else, could Young Heisuke do?

1st P.O.V

I took a gander at Heisuke's wistful face and offered a grimace, rubbing tediously my dusty left hand against my temple. I'd always intently absorbed each and every word of Heisuke's story he recalled with every ounce of energy, and I felt myself reminiscing as if I were in his shoes.

Strangely enough, it felt as if we were mourning over a deceased man.

"So..." Heisuke broke out in a relieved, and relinquished voice, clapping his hands together as they voiced a tiny clap.

Furthermore, he begun explaining that perchance there wasn't even a real significance to the instance he'd recalled and recited to me; maybe there wasn't a real meaning or subliminal message. But he quoted, 'if ever someone asked me to describe my most clearest memory of Okita Souji, I would renounce this part of my life.'

I perked up when I heard Heisuke's tone shift, but transitioned into a mellow smile. Heisuke was doing his best in the situation at hand, especially handing me this intimate part of his life at the beginning of the Shinsengumi. And the reoccurring terms of 'patient' and 'righteous' only caused my already scorched heart to swell even further.

"I don't know much about Souji, apart from what he allows others to see before him. Many things have happened. And maybe he's a changed man, and the past Souji is a dead man; but... I know he has an incredible sense of justice. That justice... just might tackle that bloodlust you were talking about," Heisuke assured with twinkling eyes that spoke far more than what he was truly explaining to me, and I felt that hidden insinuation, entranced me.

Skimming my eyes over Okita's snoozing body laid beyond the smouldering fumes of the fireplace, I grazed my right wrist over my slender bony finger joints, fixating a troubled expression. I understood, from what i'd gathered; Heisuke, had no clue, that Okita was dying.

I wasn't immune to the silence, for as much as Heisuke's words and eyes were soothing, I still couldn't bring myself to speak. I was in a futile situation, that would eventually bring about my demise. Curving Heisuke's tender words, my heart jolted when the rustles of his gear were exposed to my ears, raising a docked brow.

"Heisuke," I exhaled a shallow breath, revealing a phantom smile, "those blades must truly be important to you. You freaked out as soon as you dreaded the thought of losing them."

Heisuke's glimmering turquoise irises widened within an instant, forcing a choked chuckle out of his throat. Stroking the pair of katana which was slanted on the ground against his kimono duvet, he gave a sympathetic look.

"Really? I guess so..." he croaked with affectionate eyes casted downwards as I was inclined to fervently blush; his vulnerable expression was something that complimented his inner sincerity, and goofy personality. It was... quite adorable.

"May I ask, why?" I immediately chuckled at my absurd intensive stare in his direction, shaking my head bashfully, "sorry, I always thought blades were easily replaceable."

He hummed, flashing me a grin.

"Some blades can be disposable, Chikasa, but..." he shifted his gaze elsewhere for a second, shoulders hunched as he spoke in a quieter voice, as if it was only for my own ears to perceive, "these were forged by a trusty Toudou domain blacksmith, one of a kind."

"Toudou... but that's," I took a moment to reel in the information, before gasping aloud with my intuition clicking, "you have your own domain! Bloody hell! And, and, someone forged it with their own hands for you... does that mean you're famous?"

"Bloody hell, huh? You're just too cu..." he cut himself off when he took a moment to adjust his reddened face, shaking his head to oneself. Digressing from the subject, he blurted aloud, " I tend to keep my heritage a secret, since having the Kazusa no suke Kaneshige in my grasp makes the accursed Saito Hajime to shiver. He thinks I don't tend well to it, you see!"

Strangely enough I mustered a giggle at his humorous face through my parted lips, though instantly smacked my cheeks down to create a disdained frown. His relationship with the fellow captains made me feel ever so small as a foot soldier, only ever spying the stoic and reserved sides of these so-called heroes of the Shinsengumi.

"But... it's my only possession that I keep to my chest, from my clan. You see..." he handed me a sorrowful smile, as if he were making a fool out of himself, "I'm a ruddy bastard child. Illegitimate. I don't belong in the Toudou domain, and neither does my father agree. I'm paid even, to keep away. Father says I'm not a good sight."

I was flabbergasted in those moments, strangely enough a brusque astral projection in my mind formed the appearance of Karen Corinne, but that vanished with the flowing night gale coursing in the trees.

"Heisuke..." I made a face, gnawing down at my lower lip.

Only an utter buffoon would attempt to comfort the pitiful lad by stating his father cared for him enough to pay him a wealthy sum to sustain himself, for that level of rigidness in the family would be a horrendous experience. Family, in my mind, was something that was a haven of a sort; a means to express happiness, reveal spitting rage, expose utter abhorrence, and to share amiability.

"Please don't pity me, Chikasa. Making a face like that whilst dressed and having the same hair as a guy... it makes me confused inside," Heisuke uttered, taking a moment to rub his frost-nipped cheeks, "Mama always told me that in the presence of a respectable gal, I should always buy them things and keep them happy. And I stuck to that, when I first met you, sorry."

I retracted back for a second, despite recalling the moments when Heisuke bought me gowns upon gowns of regal robes, cosmetics, vanity mirrors and even socks. He was a well-bred lad, thus I finally understood exactly why he'd purchased for me so many items whilst we'd only just met; his mother was the closest person he'd cherished, meaning he always took her words to heart. Did he even, spend the money he was given that month by his Toudou house?

I wanted to open my heart to him, I longed to envelop him in a warmth that would make him forget all the troubles and issues of life. When I had no clue of him ever experiencing such amassed emotional distraught with his background before the Shinsengumi, it often led me to regretting ever doubting him. I found him a tease in the beginning.

"Heisuke, I just... I just want you to know this, because whether or not you're a bastard child or a regular person, doesn't mean anything to me. You.. You..." I stammered, the words seemingly unable to reach my mouth, "you mean a lot to me, and I want you happy. Always. Keep smiling like you do with Captain Nagakura, and Harada, alright?"

I lightly punched the boy's shoulder, which in stranger's unaccustomed eyes would've appeared tomboyish and awkward, yet with our gleaming faces looming close, we shared that cherishing moment by the fireplace. Hereafter, we kept each other at an arm-long distance, although our hearts surely enough were hammering in the same erratic pace.


	4. 4 Skin deep

"The Abduction Arc - Stave Four."

1st P.O.V

Wide awake, isolated in another forest. The illustrative monotonous grove encasing my whereabouts, whistled a haunting tune in my stirring ears; I could virtually taste the gut-ridiculing unsettling environment addled with lurking menace.

Gradually lifting my frozen body from its place was quite the accentuate effort, for I felt myself glued to the inky onyx bark that coiled its submerged tangles of vegetation around my body. I began to arise my elevated stance with a hint of confusion etched to my visage, although my pinned arms refused to comply. That, left a bitter paranoia in my mind, eventually wrenching my left foot from its place against the ground.

The fireplace was already burned out. The residue of the charcoal was smeared askew the undergrowth of the surrounding foliage, as I left the vacant exposure of the area surrounding me. I was mortally alone.

Although my primal instinct was to scream, perhaps to drone away the tension arising in the atmosphere, or simply curl up into a ball to refrain any oddities coming near me, I couldn't comprehend exactly why I was walking. Ambling through the wood whilst leaving behind the camp, eyes heavy and dreary, with limp arms waving in ever marching step.

Unbeknownst of the primeval creatures that thrived in the ecosystem, for as I took a gander at my surroundings, I realised in those waking moments I was coiled from the neck. It was a flushing warmth that was merged with a cool flare, causing me to buckle my standstill. And yet, the touch was cocooned into a more immersed tranquility; I felt myself heating up in the embrace.

Flickering my deadbeat eyes over my shoulder, I matched the intent jaded pools of a more deluged figure. Their smoothened, unwavering plump lips were parted leaving a porcelain demeanour to slip across their features; in fact, as I was prolonged in my stare, it became increasingly apparent that their eyes were mangled and deteriorated in texture, smouldering a violent red. They'd felt so sensual, so eye-pleasing, that a harrowed, contempt sigh dashed across my lips.

Familiar. But foreign.

I was content, when they'd begun nuzzling their soft nose against my bare shoulder, parting the kimono to expose the tanned skin. Their chin grazed against the shoulder blade, mouth parted to exhibit pearly, but razor-sharp incisors sinking into my buzzing flesh. At the contact, I couldn't spot the dripping alarmingly scarlet fluid that emerged from the crevices of the incision pricked against my skin, only further allowing an exasperated sigh to sliver from my windpipe.

I felt him eating inside of me, and there was no obsolete way of escaping his drowning fern eyes.

Startled as I sputtered back to the familiar realms of reality, I cocked my head forward, hands fixated on my sweat-profuse face. I felt sin for dreaming such an absurd dream, but I felt desire in my waking mind, for wanting to reminisce in the vision.

I could virtually plan out the exact premonition again and again in my mind, though the morning had prevented me from performing that action. Rubbing my bleary eyes, I ran a hand down the parting of my unruly whipped locks, scanning the dull day.

Early morning. Pondering at the evanesce of the fireplace though was shortly hindered by the logic that someone had casted water over it, for the discolour of the smudged hearth was overshadowed by another awoken presence. Jolting my jaw to greet the sight of the stirred male, my features were forced to reciprocate a burned tomato.

The exact man whom I'd dreamt of.

Assuring me with his rapt gaze as he was sat upright, he exhaled a deeply immersed sigh, eyebrows furrowed with his forearms slanted against his mid-thighs. I could've sworn his expression felt something similar to what a refined, triumphant leader would portray, although his tipsy shoulders hinted otherwise.

"You seem troubled, lack of sleep?" He queried with a docked brow, eyes narrowed until forming suspicious slits, "I didn't exactly have the greatest night myself; you and Heisuke clucking away last night left me with crippling insomnia. I could barely sleep."

"S-Shut up..." I blurted as I burrowed my nauseated face into my interlocked fingers, attempting to relieve myself of the searing pang that scurried across my chest. It was a warm flurry that lasted for only an intervention, as I retracted my bundle to wipe my brow with my wrist.

When I glanced up at Okita, whose hands were preoccupied with priceless cargoes of bruised fruit littered around his upright body, the memory of the pitiful farmer's apple wagon pranced across my mind. Gasping aloud at the heinous crime Okita had performed, for he had pocketed all the fruits in his kimono: without telling us! Even uttering a small fib!

"You..." I stammered off with an incredulous look, hobbling up to my feet before meticulously waddling around the extinguished fireplace. Wagging my index finger across his face, I jabbed at the air close to his peering eyes, "you dishonest man! After all that time me and Heisuke spent, carefully scavenging for food and vital sources - you mean to tell me, you had food this entire time? Even as you 'slept'?"

I had severely hoped Okita had felt the wrath bundle in my amplified voice, though with his petulant frown creased on the bridge of his sharp nose, he quirked his angular jaw upwards, facing me with a direct expression.

"It wasn't like we were in demise. We could've gotten food and beverage donations at the Shinto shrines anyway," Okita spoke matter-of-factly as if Heisuke and I were mere hindrances, though I pummelled that thought-trail of his with my own eyes burned into seething glares, "whilst you and Heisuke were playing cave-people in the wilderness, I was stocking up."

It was quite a while until I'd found myself challenging Okita in both supremacy and dominance regarding mentality. Often beforehand, I found it a nuisance and an act of disobedience to simply strike against the man, keeping meek and attentive to his every word, whereas now face to face with him, I attempted to snatch at the over-toppling fruits he bared from his palms. Every word he uttered, every facial expression he conjured, nonetheless agitated me.

He agitated me.

Quickly recalling Heisuke's rather heartwarming anecdote that was centred around the vitriolic Okita, it had shown him in a more prosperous light than he actually appeared to be in fact; I was rather tempted to open my mouth and blurt out Heisuke's keen admiration of the disappointing man. Maybe it wouldn't be as successful as it was planned out in my mind, therefore I drove the conversion against a flat brick wall.

"Arrogant arrogant... it would've been so much efficient if that key information was kindly given a day earlier... " I whispered harshly with my teeth grinding together, refraining myself from pummelling the fruit I'd clasped in my left hand, to nearly crush it against his smug face.

Alas, we put aside petulant mishap and diligently rose to clear away our camp. Lightly, we pleasured our weary bones through hoarded berries yet again picked off the nearest branches, blissfully hoping that as we clenched them between our teeth, they had not contained any toxins or poisons detrimental to the health.

Morning dwindled past, Heisuke eventually succumbing to the warmth of the day. He too, had awoken.

Hereafter, were there many squabbles and quarrels over whom exactly should take control of the navigation back to Kyoto, as well as the permanent weaponry holder.

This led to further disputes between the torn group, as I was left sighing aloud in aggravation, nonchalantly swiping at the gear under their noses. Swerving it until they formed a bundle against my shoulder blade, I resumed steady pace forward, irregardless of their dumbfounded gaping mouths.

Through a river bend that was thoroughly winded on our absolute path around the summit of the gargantuan mountain (its peakshigh in the distance), Okita and Heisuke both claimed themselves as their own navigators; for neither found it in their goodwill to rely on each other. The latter was quite complacent as he hoisted himself up on the deck of the bridge, balancing with arms outstretched to each side.

"Heisuke!" I hissed with a gritted frown, disliking his sudden urge of adrenaline and foolish display, albeit the man himself proceeded to dart his head around his shoulder, handing me his poked tongue. It was exceedingly dangerous, especially as we were trodding on rotted wood that was clearly withering away at the river's evoked moisture underneath.

"Heisuke," Okita steadily reprimanded in a projected stern tone, which surprisingly led to the boy whipping his head around, before the jade eyed man eyed him in a cautious tone. "Have you made up your mind, about coming back to the Shinsengumi? You seem quite carefree at this exact moment."

Heisuke's shoulders were hunched, I couldn't exactly spy what his face was concocting. He was the type of fellow to usually show exactly what he was thinking regardless of its effectiveness or dismay. Boisterous and open, he was an open book ready for the reader to gaze upon his contents. Whenever he thought of a sullen thought, his face resembled a harrowed prune. Whenever he was intently thinking, he'd often snap or scold the person for even asking him such a ridiculous question.

"It makes my head spin, thinking about the future that far ahead," murmured Heisuke, whose voice heavily implied he was still thinking things out. You see, Heisuke wasn't exactly the brightest bulb in the box when thinking about his level of attentiveness, as his sudden deferential aspect made me and Okita dubious, "I want to know what happened to everyone... I saw someone die before my very own eyes, for no reason. They saved me, and I want to know why that Shinsengumi member was about to kill me; that's when you saved me Chikasa."

Turning his head over his shoulder as he waltzed down the railing and onto the squelched deck with his knees retracted, he made a face as he attempted to comprehend the facts of that very night. He carried on, in his solemn journey of evaluation.

"Did they not recognise me as part of Itô's squadron? Maybe their vision was obscured by the dark. I'm sure of that, there's no reason why an innocent, good man should die." Heisuke bobbed his head up and down to oneself with a wobbled, tentative smile that gradually lifted at the corners of his mouth; he was forcing himself to brave the facts, unaware of my perked voice when I'd abruptly stopped midway of my trek across the bridge.

"Heisuke, I think you need to know something." I handed him a deadpanned face that was quite difficult to muster, especially as Heisuke was intensively peering at me from the corner of his eyes. He was ever so dastardly naive in the retrospect he was unaware, unaware.

That Okita and I, partook in the massacre of the Goryo-Eji.

Only by a whim, was he even spared.

"I... well, I..." I shivered visibly, for mustering the strength to even break it to the oblivious lad that we, were accounted for the murder of his group, was vanished. Flickering my deviated eyes back at Okita, I found a strange longing for his intervention of my waning sentences. He was mute, for good reasons.

Heisuke deserved to know. If not, he would be recklessly charging into the pits of hell, becoming an enemy to all foes alike. Even their misled allies, for Kondou of the Shinsengumi was swayed by the assumption they'd sheltered under the Satsuma's protection. They were casted out, branded as devilish outlaws and pulled the wool over their eyes, as they had no clue of the demise held before them.

Their inevitable death.

Okita, was sagacious and firm; he purposely kept himself unbiased to Heisuke or whatnot, therefore feeling utter apathy to his departure. I wasn't entirely sure that was the case, hence his never-changing spectrum of seldom facial features.

Yet he respectfully kept his wits about him and his nose far far away from the discussion, a diminished and vacant expression crept at the silver lining of his handsome countenance. I exhaled a breathless noise purposely ignorant to my hammering heart pounding away at my chest, blurting out.

"Heisuke, your thick head is thinking too much! If you keep making a hurt face, I'll push you over and feel no remorse!" I sputtered a fabricated cackle as I shoved my shoulders past his own baffled figure, burrowing my craned head into my body as I shrank. Soon after, he contagiously burst out into raucous laughter too, trailing behind me as if he were an affectionate puppy.

I had to agree with myself, that marching past the boy and feeling the burden of the information he desired scorching my back, was perhaps the most difficult encounter I've ever had. I was not giving the already dead man, a chance of a future insight.

Okita rather smugly rapped his fingers against Heisuke's scar-lined forehead, demanding that he would take full control of the group. The lad in retort sneered at his fervent expression, claiming the man had no expertise in the wilderness. It often became back-chat to each other, flinging demands, snorts, sniggers and misinterpreted whispers under their callous breaths.

At first, I shrugged in affirmed ignorance to their atypical antics, yet by the time we reached a fork in the road accentuated by the river heading under a burrow, I found it quite daunting. Pivoting on my heel from the rhythm of my plodding soles, I called upon their rapt attention. It seemed a debate on which route to head into, was crucial.

Heisuke, whom was quite earnest in his self-implanted determination, instantly jabbed at the air leading to the left. On cue, we all drifted our gaze in that particular direction, followed by the observation that the particular route seemed 'mellow,' 'quaint,' and 'happy'.

The path was enshrouded with bitter brambles coiled over the mossy-riddled path, encasing the narrow passageway that ultimately had no insight into further down the path. It was murky, unsure, and something even the mighty Toshizo of the Shinsengumi would fear; it just drilled a shiver down the spine, a wave of nausea as the faint hue of the incandescent sunlight only left an eery residue. Emerging from the depths of the road, a single deer managed to nudge its way through the prickly long grass and seething knotted weeds wriggling in the undergrowth. It cringed as it lapped it's tongue over its shining coat of fur on its flank, before scuttling off into the deeper woods.

Okita took a brief inspection of our rapt withal visages gaping into the contents of the road, before shrugging us off. Cocking his head effortlessly in the aftermath of the opposing path, the right, he stated, "surely this road will lead to better fortune, than that?"

Emphasis on his words, I couldn't agree more with the fellow, as I tediously nodded with a fearful expression. On the other hand, the former lad could only scoff with a plastered expression of soreness, implying that the other path seemed more simplistic therefore promptly threatening - if it appeared so straightforward, would the contents also keep to its facade?

I couldn't exactly favour anyone in particular; both seemed as bad as each other, and the two men were infatuated with an embroiled demeanour. Planting myself between them, I introduced the standard "majority wins' rule often used in a democracy, which in actual fact seemed to befit them. However I, was forcing myself into a deeper trench than before, apologising to Heisuke in a stammered tone that, "the road which is bathed in light seems more pleasing to the eyes, ergo I'm not too biased on either one."

In the end, Okita had managed to sway me down the less-agonising to the vision path, dragging a more debased Heisuke by the scruff of his collar.

What luck! The path was a merry journey to plunder, the kept evergreen hadn't splurged over the concise path that snaked down the favoured destination at hand, each grass blade to its own as it shimmered in the iridescent seeping rays of morning light. It wasn't as corrupt as Heisuke had proclaimed the scene to be, for I was completely stunned by the scintillating fractures of light obstructing our eyesight.

Okita, whom was tagged with Heisuke at his heel being used as means of a sledge across the ground, was far ahead of me. Caught prior to the dazzling nature of Japan's woodlands meant i'd fallen behind, scurrying forward in a means to eradicate the distance between us. I'd usually heave a strangled noise similar to "wait for me", although it was as if it was in brusque vanity.

Pertaining optimal mobility, meaning we were constantly on our feet excluding the considerable shortened breaks, we eventually sauntered into a clearing remarkably trimmed of excess agriculture. All the distance covered was nonetheless painfully sluggish due to Heisuke's attempt of palliating our dim situation, remarking that by the time we reached the curve of the mountainside, it would immediately be nightfall thus more time to sleep.

To our surprise, the lad's prophesy came true. The cumulus stranded in the sky were swept over as if being cleansed against a slate, a blank canvas arising onto the horizon. Rinsed in a minty texture across the sky, was another embellished radiance of Royal Navy Blue emerging in the distance; with the bitter winter's thrashing temperature against our cheeks (including that of Okita's pallid complexion), it was decided by myself surprisingly, that we would continue until clearing the landing we'd dwindled across.

Nightfall enthralled our fatigued bones. The hours lingered with their own searing twinges that inflicted petulant damage, for our dissatisfaction was perhaps overgrown; in good time we all began to become each other's confidants, complaining, grovelling, groaning, moaning, mumbling and whatnot to our companions to the left of us. I even managed to glimpse Okita's snivelled face cringe at Heisuke's alarming wariness 'down under'.

A sight laid ahead made us, the company, break down in jovial hysteria. Clustered by overgrown boulders, latched onto the side of the summit, was a granite site enshrouded in the mist of the willow groves casing the scene; a quaint hot spring estate, in all its gargantuan glory, was situated adjacent to their rooted spots. A bathing facility - an onsen! Just for the three of us!

Overwhelmed with an ecstatic spring in his step, Heisuke bolted with his arms flailing on each of his sides, approaching the establishment with a joyous reproach. Albeit, I kept an eye on the precarious Okita whose eyes depicted a hint of alertness, that seemed to surpass me. Narrowing my eyes at him, I eventually shrugged off his paled complexion oddly burnished.

"I shall wait here. The two of you can barge right in and plead there isn't going to a sword up your ass when the owner finds out y'all have no money." Okita sneered with a hint of a sardonic demeanour, handing us a deadbeat expression; perchance Heisuke hadn't exactly perceived the man's comment, for he blatantly waltzed into the landing of the entrance way. I began to jog lightly in his direction, proclaiming in an amplified tone.

"Heisuke! Don't walk off like that without us - you'll scare me..." I brayed with a solemn shake of my head, reprimanding the boy venturing off with his nose tied into the wrong business. Alas, this lead to the two of us forming a mini-expedition to snoop around the premises, which actually wasn't much of a mission in broad daylight. Minus the fact we had no money.

The lad, whom was easily swayed by the comfort of the resort's hospitality, was more than compliant stripping down to his bare minimum at the bathing station situated to the primary natural mineral hot springs. Surprisingly enough, the panelled doors irked and squeaked with our entrance, though our interception was more than stealthy.

With our knees arched, backs hunched, voices ushered and bodies repetitively colliding when the other would fall behind, we navigated through the abysmal pitch black hallway. It was exceedingly empty, although the vigour and uplifting waft of the empowering scent of water seeped into our sweat-profuse pores.

At the ethereal sight of a compact doorway leading into a quaint condensed indoor spring, Heisuke pounced at the opportunity. Clad only with his leggings that were stuck to his hips, reaching down to his mid-calves, it was an opportunity to flaunt his chiselled torso; pectorals as flat as an infamous Greek mythological athlete, alongside his portions of hazel hair plopped on his head, showcasing his minimal hair-styling.

As he dunked himself head-first into the depths of the murky steaming bathes, I shook my head once more with a faint smile gradually lifting at the corners of my mouth. He was quite the childish handful, despite his reputation as a newly-issued adult in the Bushidō business. Nonetheless, as I pattered my sandals down the dust-grimed corridor leading into another situated bathing station, I complimented his sheer optimism.

He was quite admirable. Not to mention, visibly a pleasant sight. Was my affection for the lad, that bad? I was quite fond of him.

Peeping into the baskets filed into narrow cupboards, revealing with the flicker of my hand reaching into the shelves: tucked stools for infants, minuscule wooden buckets, stench of water vapour tingling my nostrils, and oddly shaped faucets. As I slapped through each of the wooden lockers, I begun raising deftly my chin to spy overhead, the outer regions of the Onsen; the geothermal heated pools outside! In the blithering frosty weather!

Heisuke, from the other side of the wall, let out a measly bellow. It was the type of shrill that was particularly a nuisance to my ringing ears, keeling over to dramatically fling my pinky fingers into my clogged ears. In retort, I replied with a large 'SHUT UP' to the overgrown baby paddling in the other pool, for his dastardly voice emerging from the walls was enough for me to cringe. I was in the midst of exploring!

A silence had befallen in the establishment. Heisuke, was no longer splashing and frantically clamouring at the top of his lungs; it ensured a deep seated fear riddling in my empty casing of my chest. Conversely, I was inclined to pause in my wake, thoughtfully lifting my chin to spy the region in which Heisuke habituated; carefully, steadily, with an unsettling unease in my trembling eyes, for I curved my body to spy the corner of the corridor. Nothing so far.

Sauntering with my body latched to the wall, keeping close to it, I paused at the lengthy strides I'd accumulated until reaching his specific room. The frame was left ajar, as I peered into it.

My mouth was fixated agape, eyes boring jokes into the scenario at hand. They seemed completely blurry with the inanimate figure drifting complacently in the water, as my knees began to tremble with unsuspecting doom. I was mortally petrified, my senses weren't dirigible to handle at all.

Gone.

Ergo, the juvenile whom earlier was paddling with pure elation, was floating face-front with a delectable yet horrifying beauty to his tranquility. Sullen. Deathly mute. Shoulders caving inwards with balmy ripples of sloshing water tingle against his bare skin. Unbeknownst if he'd actually passed out or not, for I was devoid (inhibit) of any impertinent emotions...

Dead.

In fact, I more or less began screaming at the top of my lungs. The screeching, livid, morbid and barbaric sight of Heisuke drifting deadly silent, was enough for me to reminisce in the past. A time long past, in which my mind never tore the images in my searing mind. Inflicting deleterious figments of pure imagination.

Death.

The dripping limbs flayed to the sides, the shallow pool turning a fervid shade of excrement, expectorated scarlet blood; blotted chrome adapting to the coolness of the water... the brilliance of a corpse in the water.

My piercing scream shook the compound, strangely enough leading to an unfamiliar set of pounding feet racing into the Onsen, although it was met with the reception of my diminishing conscious. Befallen under a grief-stricken, rigid trauma, I stacked in my place. Limbs folded underneath me as if I were a mere inept decking chair, I landed with a THUD across the ground. Familiar swirlings of dripping water gratuitously seemed to flicker in my mind.

As a child, a simple, innocent child facing the cruelty of short-lived reality.

I became vaguely accustomed to the nuisance of constantly being bounded at my hands across the floor, therefore it was with stolid ease that I instantly came-to. At the realisation I was cuffed at the wrists with mere fabric unlike before with the excruciatingly painful dilemma, I fought back the desire to spit on the ground in putrid abhorrence. I was growing increasingly agitated by constantly being held hostage.

Glancing momentarily at Heisuke bundled at my side, grumbling with his waning sight pinned at the drenched floorboards, I snorted aloud when i'd noticed he was only clad in his fickle linen underwear. Darting his head up at me bemused, he instead handed me a baffled, glowing stare, attempting to settle my cumulative laughter. I was forcing myself in hysterics, anyway.

"Our stuff's in the corner," a husky voice infiltrated my groggy mind bank, causing me to instinctively turn the other way. Ah... Okita, whom was quite flippant, mustered a repugnant expression. Distaste, misfortunate, but most of all... irritant at the likes of me and Heisuke landing us in the particular situation.

Clicking my tongue at the foresight of the scenario, for he was true to his word. Our complied gear was stacked in a miscellaneous pile beside a rack of lotions and herbal brews, each depicting signs of minimal rust due to the condensation lurking in their fibres. Sadly, our gear would be met with unfortunate dismay if kept any longer in the region, as it was true that corrosion in the scorching temperatures would exceed imagination!

"Shoot," I cursed for a brief moment, contracting and retracting my muscles to refuse them cramping up. I felt my temperature heating with every dull slosh of nearby springs' brews, robust with the spiralling sensational realisation i'd experienced beforehand.

Anywhere, but here. I thought i'd eradicated and compressed the fear.

Squeaking rodents imprinted their rouge presences, alerting our instant senses by scuttling across the floorboards. Sniffing tentatively with their whiskers twitched, for they implanted a wariness amongst us; rats, were certainly not amicable in behaviour. In the Shinsengumi, they were renowned pests that refused to comply with trinkets and means to diffuse their pasty packs. After all, they truly were unsure if they even spread diseases - unlike myself, whom at the original HQ of Yagi, was profuse at driving the wretched fiends away. No bubonic plagues or epidemics for me, thanks!

"They'll spread disease, don't let those shits near us," I cautioned in a low tone that meant the duo only sought at me with puzzled looks, until I caved in with a compliant expression, "they'll gnaw at your feet! Kick them away!"

"We'll have none of that, you scum!" A frail voice interjected itself on our desperate dialogue, breaking away into whimsical chortles.

Nonchalantly, we all drifted our sights to the appearance at the door. Initially, I was taken aback with an impassive countenance, absorbing the feminine voice ringing at the door.

Squinting half-heartedly into the depths of the abysmal room, the seemingly elderly woman held a tight pursed frown at her wrinkled features. At first, it was evident by her sour demeanour alongside her drawn hands tucked behind her back, that she held no excuses towards our mishap. Her silky fine locks were sleekly piled into a high mage hairstyle, secured with a fastened frontal comb at the base of her neck. Dressed in a regal obsidian kimono that implanted a refined, yet dignified simplicity, for she was equipped with a shawl that draped over her forearms around her waist, interlinking with the other forearm. Tightening her bow-string posture, alongside her hunchback, she began to emit a low growl, as if she were encircling us in her mind.

"Oi! Where are we?" Heisuke snarled with his body repetitively buckled in each tremendous burst of energy, as if he were attempting to free himself from the restraints.

"At the hot springs," both Okita and I casually groaned at his dim-witted demeanour in unison, for his arid humour didn't make us laugh a bit. Was he actually... that mousy? It was baffling.

"You trespassed on private property Heisuke, and you didn't even bother to check the 'closed' sign," hissed Okita with a bitter look of vexation, glaring at Heisuke from the corner of his hooded eyes.

To our unbeknownst, the frail woman tottered on her bare heels, reaching Okita to bestow a good-willed pat on his head. She murmured "good boy," at his excellent showcase of honesty and description. Okita almost purred in response, a flittered look of smug complacency aimed at our dour sights. However, she immediately slapped the back of his head with a severe touch engrained to his stinging head, stating "joint enterprise is unforgivable!" in a raspy voice.

We were all indefinitely stunned - what could we even say to end our plight? Gazing further at the attentive rats stacking by each of her sides, it became apparent to our enquiry that they were in actual fact domesticated; household pets for the woman's kindled compassion. Although, another thought pondered in my groggy trail of thought : what had happened to Heisuke whilst he was unconscious?

Leaving that thought be, I allowed the others to continue in their dismay.

"You can't keep us locked in here! Do you know who we are? The mother fucking Shinsengumi whom work under the government! Aizu Domain too!" Cracking a haughty smirk against his sprawled lips, he absorbed her frightful expression spiralling downhill, "yeah yeah, you've heard of us!"

"We'll see about that, when I call the real authorities, and they'll trial n' execute you for breaking and entering, young pup!" The woman appeared as if she were relaxed with the situation, peering in with twinkled eyes. She shrugged at his reproaches, offering only a set of carefully picked words which led to Heisuke wincing and drooping his head.

Alas, he perked up, as he protested with a glimmer in his disconcerted eyes.

"Aha! We protect protect people on the street! We help old measly women like you, so if you have enough decency and morale to let us go this once, we'll give you extra extra protection in the future if you waltz into Kyoto!" Heisuke bargained with a content expression as he hoarsely chuckled from his windpipe, as I was inclined to interject myself.

Dragging an elongated sigh, I corrected the boy with sharp incisions against his statement.

"No, correction. We belong to the Shinsengumi, and act as a just group whom work under the government." I handed Heisuke a narrowed look, engrossed with contemplation across my wavering lips, "you and Itô's cronies? I... I don't even know what you all are. He's a bit iffy and slimy."

Whilst Heisuke was infused with a layer of slumped grumbles in half-hearted defeat, he could virtually taste the scorn, but also the firm reprimanded that he was not in connection with us. Either way, I suppose in those moments that he was dallying on the right path, thus I took the initiative to attend to his heeding words, "but then again, my companion does have a point miss. You can't hold us in these conditions against our free will."

"Ah..." she elicited a bemused tone, fixated on me in a flurry, "but you're the ones whom waltzed in, so whose to say you don't want to STAY here?"

Her aggravating tone, whose connotations proved haughty and resilient, caused me to growl outwardly in a low ferocious tone. It wasn't like anything i'd concocted before, for she twisted and distorted our words and handed them back to us. What sort of fiend would create an atrocious act?

Ergo, Okita was still entranced in his own silence even as I continued to snarl in a despicable tone. Until finally, he broke from the rapt trance, cocking his angular sharp jaw upwards with a thoughtful countenance. He began to roll his slurred tone as it never ceased to flabbergast the rest of the company.

"Can I kill you?" uttered Okita, causing me to jerk upwards and spy his flat murky green eyes drilling holes into the elderly stubborn owner. They were riddled with a lax voice that was awfully husky for his strained tone, yet it did not emasculate me in any senses.

"Don't waste your precious breath Captain Okita," I calmly issued Okita with utmost respect, banding together to ultimately achieve the man's discreet goal, "if you instruct me to crush her windpipe tenderly with my left hand, I'll gladly oblige. Perhaps also, eliminating her rat companions."

Now in those moments, it was a hidden task that I were to create a sort of illusion, that I was begotten with rage towards the woman. It was mere humour that i'd done so, perhaps to feel the point even Heisuke also incredulously turned in my direction; I envisioned his horror too, as I abode to the very words Okita uttered. I was a subordinate, therefore discipline was key. I had no qualms joking around, but neither did I have a problem winding my hands around her pencil neck. It was only a matter of the mood.

It was quite a thrilling jester to watch the woman's visage turn from something utterly unreadable, to a face engulfed with a petrified edge in her eyes. As I proceed to salivate my lips slowly, carefully, and meticulously alongside my intent dull chasmic eyes, to appear as if I were about to pounce on the woman and feed off her, it was by the dime of a rat stumbling into a crevice situated on the wall adjacent to its spot, that she hurriedly fumbled with her hands.

Sensing my enmity, although it was greatly short-lived, her almond eyes darted to and fro frantically, as she took alternative steps back to the door. She felt my my menace coursing through each and every rickety bone situated in her body as flimsy as a stone in the lapping waves of the tides; proceeding to visibly quake.

"You scare me the most, girl!" cried the feeble woman, although she was eventually intervened by the likes of Heisuke nodding curtly.

"Alright alright, it's clear you want something," he paused with addled hesitation, "but what?"

The old woman paused in her wake. Had she even thought about the price of our intrusion? Nonetheless she jerked a tuft of hair that flickered down her wrinkled forehead, her olive skin illuminated by the dusk lamps bathing in the serene nightfall.

"I don't trust you," she spat, "you're slimey. You could hurt me - all of you!"

It was a complete understatement to our abilities, although Heisuke was surely offended therefore let out a soft scoff in disbelief. Regardless, Okita attempted to simmer the heat between all of us.

"Say, let's forget this never happened, and you don't have to call the authorities on us. Oh, I know," he flickered his jaded incandescent eyes upwards in a deadbeat manner, "we could fetch an errand for you. It's tempting, ain't it little old miss?"

It was brilliant of Okita to calmly dissolve the situation, when in actual fact he was the one who initiated it, for his quick thinking and evident favouritism towards him meant he could take the upper hand. Informing the woman to calmly avoid handing us to the authorities was quite the useful tactic, for the possibility of us leaving the Shinsengumi would be a tarnished rule of the Code of Conduct could result in Harakiri for each of us - the traditional form of suicide by cutting open the abdomen.

"I mean... with all this pointless discussion, I was hoping to melt down your dead corpses into my furnace to heat up the place for the winter!" She deftly rapped her fingers over her chin, widening her looming smile that edged at the corners of her mouth. Sinister.

I felt us all visibly gulping down the bile, for her facade seemed to match her impassive remark.

At the expense of our original time to reach Kyoto, we were tasked with the instructions of heading outside the establishment. Though often we grumbled in dismay to being lugged into further quests, we instinctively held loyal to our word; following the familiar route out of the corridor, lifting the entrance panels, before reaching the designated route given by the elderly lady; in return, she would comply with our own offers of the safest route back to Kyoto as well as our belongings. Perhaps she hadn't believed our profession of officials, albeit it wasn't our most top priority.

Demanded to keep following the gravel path which would onwards lead to a pitch of fresh winter blooming stalks, the woman taught us the route down the orchard grove hidden between layers of brambles alongside the outskirts of the nearest civilisation. Supposedly, this manner of safekeeping would ward off any unsuspecting predators or officials prowling from the nearest prefecture; if that was a large issue, why surface that to our acknowledgement? We weren't particularly sure exactly why we were entrusted, especially with the agenda of retrieving a special package.

Okita lightly muttered he should've taken my offer of cleanly finishing off the bickering senior, whilst Heisuke whom was engaged in his surroundings with a look of awe, began to comment on the distance far ahead. He proclaimed he could spy the visible sight of a shabby hut, which preferably in his mind, wasn't exactly the location he had in mind. Either way, myself and Okita too recognised the shift in his demeanour, eloquently trailing after the gleefully skipping lad.

The dwelling was constituted with two major factions: there was flimsy wooden gate barred around the compartment, which seemed to die off into regular pikes around the far-side corners of the residence. The other, was in actual fact the primary household in which stood firm; it was the spitting image of an atypical thatch roofed abode.

Although there seemed to be rather a sparse amount of trivial errors surrounding the piece; in many areas was there lucent crevices in the roofing, fissures in the mound of the walls, alongside familiar patches of decay dotted around the corners of the frontal entrance. Even, traceable evidence of distinct mildew accumulated around those particular patches, as I was inclined to avert my eyes fervently for in total fear I would actually physically vomit by the sight of the ghostly pale fungus.

Clearly, there was a lot of construction still taking place within and in the exterior of the compound. In any case, the bold textures of swatched khaki as well as a firm paint of brick crimson against the vernacular frame was quite dignified. It was a worn-out, weary frame, but with a studious and more closer inspection, one could truly spy the sheer complimentary style it held with the environment. After all, the foliage of encircled orchard groves that belonged to mulberries, partially hid away the angular frame of the queer housing.

As I was lost for words at the drafty complexion of the deathly pallid minka-housing, Heisuke was rapid to spontaneously bound forward. He was quite ignorant in the sense he did not realise there was a patch of dry leaves surrounding the landing the led into the doorway, which was presumably purposely crafted out to ward off potential house-burglars. A snare.

Within seconds of crunching the patch of accumulated leaves, the etiolated tone of Heisuke's skin gradually sinked in the daunting realisation he'd been caught by the left ankle in a trap. Moments later, he again was proceeded to hang by the limb mid-air, catastrophically bursting into wild vulgarities and spitting rage: shaking fists, snarling repugnance, alongside the streaming illuminated moonlight which glimmered against his loose tufts of strained hair flickering off his perspiring-profuse forehead (after returning back to his clothes, he actually forgot to tie his hair back).

In fact, his reverberating tone was so incredible, it actually rang throughout the clearing in the middle of the orchard. A few mulberries here and there managed to drop off at the discord of amplified human screeching, alongside the hollow echoes that resonated in the silence of the distance onwards. Both Okita and I winced eventually at the agitating sound we perceived audibly, ergo we took to fleeing the scene (sauntering around the flimsy lad) and arriving at the doorway.

Suddenly as if the sound of the blistering young adult reached the wooden lattice framed doorway, it abruptly slacked ajar. The translucent washi paper emitted a silhouette that eventually hobbled into view, for the sights laid before us was quite exhorted. The delicate hand that slid open the frame, belonged to none other than a curious woman. To an extent, I was mesmerised by her swaying tufts of voluminous raven hair that reached down to her hips, garbed with a sullen frown. She begun to rub her hands together in disdain, vigorously aiming her sights up at the swinging Heisuke.

But I was intrigued. I hadn't foreseen the encounter with this newcomer before, ergo as I was rooted to the ground with a firm stature, my sights were enthralled by her reserved posture. Although to a degree she appeared restless, it was by actual truth she was gathering intel with her deviated eyes darted at our sudden introduction. She was perceptive and brilliantly observant, as the trap behind her door was there for excellent reasons.

However, with her tawny light lenses harrowed down at our likes, she proceeded to spontaneously slide down the door back to ignore us. It was quite an upheaval yet with my erratic reflexes, I managed to catch the frame with the back of my palm firmly lodged between the gap. Immediately, it turned a dastardly prune shade.

I actually cursed before folding my legs inward, eliciting a groan at the sheer pain inflicted at my limb. Of course the buzz of the weight hauled on my outer palm excruciatingly seared, it was the result of my instincts finally kicking in. Reminiscing in a past long forgotten, though etched in the back of my mind, those dazzling locks of thick hair belonged to a mother.

A widow.

"A-Aiko... Ichi... you're still the same aggressive woman from all those years ago," I hitched my laboured breath at my cocooned limb taken hostage, chuckling a raspy, arrogant chortle, "mind if we pop in?"

Perchance, she too was absorbed in my facial features, proceeding to meekly lower her head (despite her stoic eyes) once gasping aloud. It was the type of noise conjured by a madman after solving their insidious plan; to incur a great overwhelming, but also... realisation. There was an indefinite fear looming at the brimming surface of her dilated eyes, expressing fatigue that was complimented by her heavy eye-bags.

Ushering us in, the brief moment she revisioned our entwined life before the encounter, she was quite shaken up. It was an incontestable difference compared to the swagger Okita performed, brushing past the likes of Heisuke's unintelligible rouse, before eventually heading inside.

It seemed the woman had not only remembered my name, she recited our first rekindling. Luckily it was a reunion much cherished that didn't confirm any antipathy towards us regarding our career; her spouse, too was a Shinsengumi much like us.

As we entered the indecorous, vacant residency belonging to the former Ichi, we were guided along into the spacious landing of the living room. Much to our dismay, we profusely started that Heisuke preferred the outdoors therefore was completely inclined to stay in his spot. Hanging. Handing us a perplexed countenance, she nonchalantly nodded before excusing herself to make fresh tea.

"Why do you have a snare outside your door, Miss Aiko?" I was dared to incline, handing her a slight tilt of my head.

"Oh..." a weary smile puttered at her tugged lips, for she digressed that often bandits from the side of the mountain would refuge in these woods to incumbent from their ways. However, as she begun to speak, she informed us that during the transition of winter-spring, it would be best to prepare for burglars of the sort.

Again, she was worried on Heisuke's behalf in the chill of night, though Okita shrugged half-heartedly as he sat beside the boiling kettle, claiming the lad was fine by him. I, on the other hand, prodded him with my elbow in retort. Surprisingly, it was the first introduction Okita had of the female which led to his skeptical demeanour, as I was forced to make them exchange names.

"Okita, Souji."

"Ichi, Aiko."

Commending us on our piteous journey, which led her to in fact raising a brow at it, Aiko queried if she were allowed to incline on our agenda. With a musty sigh, I proceeded to enlighten the widow of the past events such as the errand of the spring owner (respectfully leaving the information of the Tosa and embarrassing Yama Uba, to the rasetsu and plight beside the waterfall). Nodding patiently at my arduous explanation to which she gratefully bowed in a short stance, she twirled a curl of charismatic hair away from her low forehead, attentive with her immensely alluring almond eyes.

In the aftermath, I found it also quite onerous to profess that in actual fact, I too was a woman. At the time, Aiko was tending to the iron kettle and almost tipped it offbalance at the enumeration, forcing me to also catch the scalding hot container. Effortless, for the water had not heated properly, as I tentatively placed it back on the rack. She handed me a bewildered, dumbfounded stare throughout.

With our side of the bargain accomplished, it was by our obligation that we would uncover Aiko's side of the story. Initially she was heavy with reluctance as she groomed her kimono collar gingerly; fiddling with the tassels had led her figure to appear quite anguished in mentality, quite a difference to the ferociousness of her resolve many winters ago.

She announced that she was barely able to lift herself out of poverty. Especially, after the proclamation that her husband was forced to commit seppuku. It took a great toll on the family name despite her greatest efforts to thwart the traces of despair; she repeated that she'd always known the consequences of tying the knot with a Samurai, though she retreated into the woods to prevent the tarnished name of Ichi spreading. Why, would she be forced to remarry when she had no utter use of it?

She sold Tomonosuke's literature, calligraphy which were framed, as well as their decent residence to take up arms in a mountain retreat.

At the notorious name swirling at her lips, Okita docked a brow in astonishment, noticeable by his minuscule shift beside me. Though it was clear that the infamous but deceased figure would spread a mixed audience; he was considered Hajime Saito's best swordsman, and with an incident in the historical grounds of Akebono Tei house, he was sentenced to death by manslaughter.

With vain recognition, I cleared my throat of any raspy bile choking me up, "you know, a little bit of construction and this place wouldn't look too shabby," I paused when the uncomfortable silence was supposed to be surpassed with a feint chuckle, "so where's our little sweetheart, Kobe! He must be a big lad by now."

Ah - one Ichi family member was not-so-present. It was the affectionate, stubborn yet proud Kobe, her presumed 8-year old. Beforehand, he was a remarkable spirited lad whom was sensitive and often victimised himself. Nonetheless, he was formidable if he'd honed that brilliant resolve of his. All these thoughts compiled in my mind as I spoke aloud, awaiting patiently with a glimmer of a faded smile across my visage.

"Well..." she blatantly averted her eyes to my point-blanc question, as she flickered a sympathetic expression against her paled complexion, " Old Dear Shizuka certainly has got her work cut out, asking some 'lads' to help with errands. I'll fetch the packages."

I was exorbitantly discombobulated. Asking the woman a polite question only to be dismissed with such ease? It left me quite aggravated, agitated as I clenched my jaw; I was renown, notorious even amongst the Shinsengumi for my heated temper, even now keeping my temperamental swings at bay due to our heartfelt reunion. Even then, diverting my gaze discreetly back at Okita whom was engrossed with the stoked flames of the pit, it was evident I was the only one whom noticed the sudden change in atmosphere. Why had she ignored my question of welfare? Was the child coping and faring well?

As she swivelled her hips from her seated position to head into the culinary quarters adjacent to the fireplace in the middle of the living room, I couldn't help but excuse myself with a jerked jaw.

"Aiko! Mind if I head to the latrine?" I exclaimed at her retreating figure, garnering an amplified "yes" in response, I glanced momentarily at Okita's hunched shoulders.

He was coping well. Maybe in his younger, more jovial days, he would've been asserting himself after each sentence I'd elicit in the conversation. Maybe, he would've been the first to issue the suspicious looks in my direction after Aiko's dismissive tone; turning over his shoulder, giving me a cheeky grin.

He was barely awake. His defined chin continued to slack inwards against his collarbone, with his thick eyelashes fluttering in every defined moment; his hunched body grazing against the tips of the tender flames meant he was clearly unconscious. Furthermore, those particular flames casted projected shimmers of streaming light against his burnished features, as I felt my heart smoulder in response. He was gradually becoming more and more tired, to the point his symptoms similarly matched to the late Muhammad Ali: concealing his illness with much difficulty.

Tanking myself up to my feet, I fetched for my sandals to begin slapping them onto my soles, toddling into the narrowed hallway that presented an abundance of other rooms. Unlike the Shinsengumi, the Ichi residence was somewhat smaller in capacity, therefore the stretches of hallway weren't as winded as they were at Nishi Hongan-Ji. It was an actual relief.

"The toilet's probably outside..." I muttered with a disdained rub of my palms to fend off the frost, attempting to allocate my dimmed surroundings.

Candles weren't exactly the best approach of illuminating the surroundings; by following each oiled saucer situated on the shelves, I eventually became thoroughly lost. Taking a gander over my shoulder was futile, for the stretch of hallway thickened at a rising migraine at the side of my head. Dear! Oh lo! I was thriving on my dismay, as the tinkling sensation between my thighs was too frightened to surface.

Again, I glanced over my shoulder to sought a comfort, however this particular time wasn't the best moment.

A presence lingered at the corner of my eyes, lifting them behind me. It wasn't an exigency to hastily turn my body around in a propeller manner... but the more the aura latched onto my conscience, the more the pleading sensation filled me with dread.

An infant. Well, on a more closer and exerted inspection, their sunken cheekbones which were distinguished by the glowing flames of the flicking oil lamps, proceeded to expand my actual analysis; a dwarf adult? 13? 6? 90! 57? The list was ethereal, yet their ever changing expression was evanesce.

I was expected to believe it was Aiko's brother, though another thought invaded my perplexed outlook. Clad with multiple layers of winter olive kimono, only their white undergarment collar peeking from underneath, alongside their onyx sash tied to their waste, ultimately led me onwards. Ah, I could virtually picture the familiar scenario edging at the back of my mind, though the circumstances were entirely distorted. Kobe.

The child of the widow.

Overcome with a particular sensation I couldn't apprehend, for my mind was briefly clouded. Hips pivoted at an angle to face the child, though it was inhibited by my growing fear I would tinkle on the ground, I quite literally cut short my indolence. Although the abysmal lack of light in the corridor was an issue, I was almost inclined to bellow out in passionate longing for the child. It had been many many years!

The boy, perfectly positioned dead straight ahead of me, had wired his eyes shut. It gave me the opportunity to become aware of his lash-rimmed eyelids, obscured by his rouge dark hair. In fact, it was the entire reason i'd contemplated the young child's identity; Kobe, a while ago, actually had pleated his hair into an oil slicked chonmage which bore resemblance to a remarkable Samurai, though now in the present: it was thick, black, messy and covered the vast majority of his forehead.

"Chiara big sister, eat this for me." His flat, vacuous tone contradicted his jovial statement. It led me to believe he was incredibly intense, similar to an exemplary harbinger of dreadful news.

When I trailed my gaze down at the child's edible package, I managed to evade the thoughts of physically throwing up the contents of whatever fish, berries, beverage or whatnot lurking in my absent appetite.

For strewn across the boy's clasp, a charred stained black, was an adult rat. Lifeless, and limp, reaching the span of his forearm across to his other forearm; its thick, bulky tail coiled around a few loose pebbles, as if it were previous moments of attempting to violently escape the grips of the infant.

I was longing to retch up, taking a wide step backwards with bulging eyes. It was petrifying, absolutely engaging for a mere child to offer the decaying corpse of a colossal rat to my taking, even going as far as demanding me to eat it. Processing the scenario ensued me to describe in vulgar detail, led me to even noticing the child-like claw marks situated around the blank slots of eye-sockets. I took a rapid glare back up at the immobile child.

Was it even a child?


	5. 5 Wrong, so wrong

"The Indolence Arc - Stave One."

1st P.O.V

Ensued, was a barrage of myriad footsteps that thundered down the corridor, to our destination. Despite the obfuscation of vision deemed by the dimmed lighting of the damp corridor, I eventually came to the conclusion that it was in fact Aiko whom had scrambled to her child's immobile side. Gratuitously, she temporarily obscured his sight by covering her inner palms over his head, ushering him to her chest with nonsensical murmurs.

I was still rather taken aback, retreating with nimble footsteps until my heels were grazed against the wall. It was just so... preposterous to assume Kobe was capable of such crude, contempt words which sliced through the possibility of rekindling.When my glazed, distance eyes wandered back at the duo entwined in each other's blissful embrace, it was quite conniving, when I found that not a single moment, did the young boy open his eyes.

\- moments later

"Again, I'm terribly sorry," bowed the impeccable, yet thoroughly distraught Aiko in a demure tone. Her words, were utterly vacant and seemed to reciprocate her hollowed burgundy eyes, but with a closer gander at her puckered lower lip, I was inclined to believe she'd marvelled at the entirety of myself and Kobe's fateful introduction.

When Okita had awoken from his frail state, whilst gouging down the bitter stale tea, we resumed to retrieve the begrudging Heisuke. He seemed almost reluctant at our phantom appearances, appearing below his suspended body fixed to the roof of the awning shelter. In addition, the housekeeper provided the package useful to our agenda; a neat casket of a deep shade of crimson cloth at the mouth of the entrance, revealing the contents of steamy, delectable confectionary.

Okita and I exchanged looks for a brief interval, before wincing at the clasp of the delivery. It was to my belief, that I'd twinged a nerve in my palm, causing me to almost drop the package with the tremor of my quaking hand. It excessively ached my thumb; I couldn't flex it properly. As I stared, blisteringly dumbfounded, at this dismal occurrence, it caused a stir in the company.

"Chikasa, how did you hide your injuries? Those are horrible..." Heisuke was exemplary in the fact he was the raw epitome of surprise; he was gaping at my trembling palms riddled with scars running from the bottom of my wrist, up to the tip of the crevice between my index and middle finger.

"I don't know, the thought hadn't occurred to me," I blatantly blurted, averted eyes furrowed down at my seemingly severe injuries.

To my utmost belief, it was true that the injuries had hindered my work beforehand, whereas now it was a sheer embarrassment. I could feel the hot heat clambering up my florid complexion, as I felt... incompetent, meekly allowing Heisuke to snatch at my hands. Gazing at his circumspect of the corrupt hands in his bundled palms, it was a fleeting dash of deja vu across my mind; his smooth touch that scurried across the rough skin caused me to shudder in response. Instead, I was completely caught inattentive with his glaring turquoise eyes that twinkled in reproach at me.

Had I only realised, Heisuke was a grown man? His empathy enticed me, for my heart was throbbing at his strapping features; was Okita watching? I couldn't bring myself to sneak a glance back at his impassive volatile body facing away from me.

"Hey, housekeeper," Heisuke curtly nodded in the direction of Aiko whom responded with a sincere expression at my injuries, "can you fix her up?"

The woman was more than compliant, much to my glee. Fortunately, Aiko offered in advance to ail my wounds with herbal remedies and makeshift bandages, to which I was more than beholden; they were quite flimsy and tacky material ravelling around my limp hands and hip-side, although it was in my pleasure to thank her earnestly. Perhaps, it was quite aggravating in my mind that they were crowded around me. Too tight.

It was a crooked farewell.

Initially Heisuke began to whine with a prod at my elbow, attempting to garner my attention by commenting on any exertion of scourging for food and whatnot, insinuating that we should demand for supplies towards the amiable woman. With a stern expression and steeled jaw, I responded that we'd overstayed our welcome, bestowing him with the information that I'd befriended her in the past. With that, he made an effort to keep a satisfied face, though terribly perplexed.

As we proceeded to gloss over our multitude of gratitude towards the humble woman as her guests, exchanging awkward bows whilst juggling the fundamental package in our grasp, it left with a rather bleak atmosphere. As if, everything was rather bleak, and rushed. To the point, it felt redolent as I turned my back to the friable frame of the egregious housing.

Unfortunately, it was not possible to stay the night within the chambers of the widow; not only was it considered a bad omen for widow women to attend to the needs of other men, but the ideal belief that a woman would continue to be chaste even after the spouse's eventful passing, was something crucial to the foundations of any culture.

And yet... as I was plodding my feed into the thicket of the long grass, wading my way through the uncharted marshes of the damp mud, I couldn't help but cast my eyes downwards in the ground with sheer contemplation.

The more I attempted to evade any thoughts of the ... rather disturbing rendezvous with the sole Ichi child, the more I couldn't help but scorch the memories in the back of my mind. It, haunted me, to continue to recollect the emotions I felt upon encountering the child, whom tasked me with the request of devouring the deceased corpse. At the livid thought, I couldn't help but voluntarily shiver with a quake down my sloped spine, forcing me to abruptly halt in my pace.

Something had happened in the years we'd taken our separate ways. In those particular years, it was as if the happy emotions that were derived from the heart disintegrated to a foul residue, to connote that nothing meaningful came from our previous confrontation.

As if, we were mere strangers.

It was in my best interests, to sought a different route to my current manner of pace. After all, it felt rather impotent to meekly follow on in Okita's stead, alongside Heisuke in the pitch black murk of the dead night. Perceiving the cicada that shrilled in a symphony at the back of my nape, I momentarily swerved my divulged gaze back in the direction we took flight from, with a visible frown across my face.

I took no words, nor a sudden change of breath which escaped my pinched lips. However, perhaps noticing the change of footing behind me, Okita swerved his shoulders to face me straight-on. He was garbed with a facial expression I couldn't exactly comprehend in the obfuscating lack of light in the surroundings, yet with the sharp intake of breath, instant speed of his steps, it was as if he took a great measure of dissatisfaction to the change of demeanour I withheld.

"It feels wrong, Okita..." with a pained countenance, I wiped the grime smeared across my cheeks detained from the herbal balm Aiko applied across my palm, though later I'd begun questioning how it even got on my cheeks.

"You know, you cannot interfere with their lives. Do you want to be left behind?" Okita took great, prolonged silences as if he was thinking exactly what to say to my hardened face. For once, the huskiness in his tone seemed redolently distant, as if he weren't only inches away from me amongst the long-grass. Rather, a thousand miles away.

Left behind...

"That's not it! Don't say that! It's just..." I exhaled a frustrated sigh with the jerked motion of weaponry clattering with the aggravated step forward I took, attempting to convey the mixture of emotions to Okita with the greatest effort I could muster, "it just feels different here... they're different."

3rd P.O.V

You can feel that vibe sometimes, amongst our own race. When something feels exceptionally abnormal, to the point it would be haplessly dire. Some may take heavily of this trait, assume blatantly of clairvoyance in your behaviour; though, it's a sort of characteristic we all hold, isn't it?

In any case, Chiara sought refuge with Okita's empathy through his words. Strangely enough, as she forced herself to stare further into his dimmed features that were hued by the overcast of the tyrannical gloom of the cumulous overhead, it would've been a mere trick of the light to assume he was sincere. Although, she was gravely mistaken if she would stereotype his usual reserved visage as apathy. Wrong.

Okita drew out an exasperated sigh, for he felt the weight of his words cascade down his tongue. " You cannot judge someone based on their outer appearance; their thriving well-being might even be determined on hiding from the sight of others. That's how people can be," Okita clicked his tongue in an bided attempt to gain Chiara's attention which was a success, concluding in his speech, "we need to collect the rest of our baggage and find the route back home. Home, I tell you."

At the sentiment Okita bestowed, Chiara was torn. For a split second, it was as if by the fluent stroke of Okita's hand that gestured for her to follow along by his side, was enough for her to meekly comply with his orders. A order handed by her once-cherishing Captain, whose words were as important as a legislation passed by the government, which she would follow with her heart swelling in pride.

Conversely, she felt the opposite. Staring bleakly at the man's reclined stance only made the frightful woman more agitated, chiding her to a past long forgotten in which she was redolent in the distance words left by an old accomplice.

With ease, she lifted her phantom palms to gaze nonchalantly at her broken hands riddled with musty crevices, torn skin, flappy flesh and a texture of roughened sandpaper. With those hands, was she bestowed - no, entrusted with the sacred heirloom Tomonosuke Ichi, the head of the prosperous family, had left behind for the woman to inherit.

She could imagine herself gripping tightly at the crossguard of the esteemed longsword, envisioning herself running her hands amok the loose tassels, trinkets and bound cloth that was wrung from the tip of the blade, down to the hilt of the weapon. In fact, it was held highly in her regard to the point she'd rarely found herself clasping ahold of it tightly with a brewery of emotions churning within her; pride, sentimentality, vengeance, crude wistfulness ... but most of all, the passion to seek justice.

She couldn't delude herself any longer; guiding each word to seep from her enclosed lips, she breathed the heavy words which foretold her kismet.

"Tomonosuke entrusted me with his family, a brother to another," her shoulders shuddered with the elicited sound, as she gradually lifted her eyes to meet Okita's astonished stare. She recalled her final thoughts, collecting them in a jumble, "I'm sorry..."

Perhaps it was difficult for the woman to confess, that she was in dire need of closure. With the looming images of Tomonosuke's days past, it was always a natural duty taken upon by the young Shinsengumi to fulfil his duty left behind. Eluded with that particular thought in her mind, she could only aspire to brave a steady, yet forced grimace towards Okita; then, she left without another word, causing Heisuke further down the line to bark in a frenzy.

"Hey! We always have to chase after her; where is she going?" He whistled between his teeth once the auditory motion of Chiara distributing her basket down onto the ground with a tremendous CLUTTER, as he cried in retort, "honestly... Souji?"

As the woman fled from sight, it was the duty of Okita Souji to immediately turn back towards the reluctant male clad with a skeptical countenance. Equipped with a chiding tone, he begin to entrust the young boy with delivering the package back towards "Shizuka" - nicknamed by Okita, the 'Demon Rat Lady'.

It was an utter conundrum for Okita, in his mind. A nuisance. The postponed journey back home, which was already further delayed, was deemed in his head to be hanging by a single thread by which he'd already comprehended in those moments which he gazed ruefully down at the woman's hands. Narrowing his jaded slits down at the ground, he ran a hand through his slick hickory brown hair, sullen with a crestfallen silence.

The single thread, being the threshold of Chiara's resolve.

1st P.O.V

It came to my deluged flurry of rapid realism, that Aiko wasn't particularly jovial at my reappearance. Nor, was she quite festive at the idea of me intruding on her premises without another word pardoning "excuse me!".

With a fearful expression as the heavens had crashed down around us, she accompanied my stalking stagger down the hallway, as pale as a grief-stricken hare in the depths of a tundra night. Querying on my behalf, for her lower lip was puckered as she questioned my abrupt intervention.

Again, much to my acute senses heightened by the dingy hallway barely alight with strewn candles, I refrained from actually telling her anything. Suddenly, I brought myself to a screeching halt in my turbulent march down the hallway, swivelling my pivoted heels until my body faced her.

And with curiosity, I stared at her.

"Good heavens young man! Woman. What is wrong with you? Why are you as enigmatic as a clairvoyant vulture, in desperate need of their prey?" She stammered as she furiously fumed, balling up her fists as she swayed them within the hemming of her baggy kimono sleeves.

When I found myself searching further into her eyes, I was relieved to find myself utterly intrigued. Her coated layer of amber orbs revealed another thinned, opaqueness that seemed to define her pupils; it was by the obstruction of the light did I find myself peering further, until our noses almost grazed in amiability. It was confirmed, dead on in my relaxed, steady gaze. She, was in an array of emotions; flustered, florid, rage, grief, but most of all:

The ability to forgive was mustered within her. I'd never truly conversed with Kobe on the matter, yet I knew exactly in my mind, why he appeared to me with that sardonic visage.

Averting my head away, I steeled my sharp jaw with a furrow of my brow.

"You're... Aiko. You're you." I reinforced my scuffled voice with the waver of my footing, poised with my hand tracing over the doorframe's screening; it was the entrance of another room, another possible outcome in their house. In a lamenting tone, I regained full-control, "Kobe, is someone I need to talk to."

"Please... don't..." was the final words Aiko muttered with a nausea washing over her stressed face.

Foolishly, I entered the room with the ripe intention of rectifying my misdeeds. What, was it in fact? My ignorance, that blighted me from revealing the fate of Tomonosuke, the dearest husband and cherishing father, which could've in actuality, prevented his vain unaccounted demise?

Breaching the premises, with Aiko in standby, for it was assumed that she did not approve of my sudden barging, was something spontaneous. I slid open the panelled door, which hadn't given me a particular foresight into the room (the panels were murky by the glowering backdrop of the moon reflecting in the window). Nonetheless, as I scanned the contents of the abysmal room vacant of any furniture or interior design, I found my eyes only laying upon the single casted object in the room. A human.

There was a minutiae of nerves flocking at my throat, causing me to momentarily gulp down in profuse exerted strain. While the juvenile was seated cleanly down on the ground in the middle of the compact space, there were no traces of any mattresses, curtains, tableware whatsoever; it appeared more capacious than initially perceived, which was actually quite a surprise, considering the room was believed to be the young master's chambers.

He was fiddling with a kite, ranged with an assorted array of hexagonal patterns that were painted with a precision carefully amassed with professional effort. Its tail, whose properties consisted of shredded bows that were scattered across his slumped figure on the ground, was the final cinch that led me to assume he was fixing it.

"Hey kid." I broke the unprecedented air of throttling silence with my voice resonating in the hollow cove of Kobe's chambers, though it was believed that he did not appreciate my foreign voice.

Finally, he plucked off the last bow that was fastened onto the tail. Halting in his wake, meant he suddenly brought himself to his feet, revealing his petite stature which shuddered in the heat of the flickering candles' flames. In his rigid, jerked movements which were followed by his stern frame pivoting until he faced the likes of Aiko and I, led to his closed eyes prying open.

I could virtually taste the tension in the air.

His eyes were enthralled with a obsidian hue in their blackened glory; they appeared to follow our timid movements similar to the way a Bengal tiger would crouch before striking in mid-pounce. Bleached, powdered white skin that was incandescent to the glower of the night's radiance, was followed by his palm monotonously raised until it locked eye level with me.

And then it occurred to me. The child, was not quipped with the same range of emotions, connotations or denotations such as the woman, his mother.

It was all deathly obscured.

At the beckoning command enshrouded with a mute dominance, the flooring began to distort itself in an askew motion: were my eyes deceiving me? The disconcerting level of the floor was a mere mirage, that bubbled up and down, back and forth - until it rose and struck me in the chest.

I couldn't keel over in those unceremonious moments, for I was instantaneously driven back by an unknown force pinning me against the wall. Stifling a groan which was enunciated by the rapid stinging of my shoulder blades digging into the panels, eventually I overhead a disdainful crack of the narrow walls. It was as if by the immediate passing of my body against the frame, did it crumple and SNAP.

I was thrown out of the room, by a masked, cavalier presence which seemed to be summoned by Kobe's limp, outstretched arm.

Luckily, I was slumped beside the entrance to the room, leading me to jerk upwards extravagantly.

I wasn't entirely fazed by the blow of the invisible threat which surrounded the thickly dense tension of the abysmal room, though by the time I managed to hoist myself up to my feet with the momentum of my hands against the ground, the shattered Shoji acted as a barrier in front of me, barring the entrance.

Pounding my fists into the framed door, I cursed with disgruntled acrimony. What had just happened? Nonetheless, I proceeded to swell my chest with pride, accompanied by the thoughts of putting an end to these relentless charades; carefully, I placed a guiding hand against my hipside to command my unsheathed sword to rise.

Hang on? Where had it gone?

I was startled, baffled and hissed with a glare down at the ground. Perhaps, whilst I'd been knocked off my feet and temporarily pinned to the wall, the sash had managed to unwind leading to my swords to be evicted of its space. Was that even possible?

Again, another thought pursued my evidently discouraged visage. A horrendous thought. Had... Had the child taken my blades in the narrow interval? Hesitantly, I rattler the door by the hinges in a grandeur spurt of energy, leaving it to quake with throttling power.

"Hey! You ignorant bull-shitting kid - hand over the blades now! That isn't safe!" I spat with venom whilst charging my shoulder blades into the Shoji with enough power that would significantly blow it off its hinges, yet I was demoted by the nefarious rattles of the doorway, that were strangely blunt. As if an object behind the door was obfuscating the chance to burst into the room. But what, exactly was faltering my trek?

Conversely, I stopped dead in my tracks by the alien, more malaise voice which erupted from the fissures of the door's broken hinges.

"The blade of Samurai belong to me..." the voice, chiding with a petulant tone ringing in an infinitesimal manner, was addled with a menace - diabolical, vengeful edge. It even threatened to giggle, chortle with the masking, infantile voice of Kobe.

It made me wince, shrinking back, for I knew in those moments, that nothing could stop the son of an elite, prodigious Swordsman.

"Kobe! Kobe! Come out I beg you - don't give your dear uncle and I so much hassle-" the woman, clad with a pallid, deathly pale expression, broke out into an exclamation beside me.

"Quiet woman! Don't test my rage!" Again the elusive figure dwelling behind the door broke out into a set of hysterical noises, scuffled by their evident footing banging against the door.

Upon pondering with closer inspection, the voice was coincidentally tangled with a series of unmatched tones. A deprived old man seemed to thrive within him that broke out into a chorus of vigour - alternatively, hidden beneath that façade was another alias.

A woman, whose cries were only fragments of fickle despair which latched onto the tail of Kobe's kite of fluttering emotions. All in all, they deemed themselves frail; how could such... delineate emotions live inside his frame? A small, tiny child incapable of expressing such emotions?

I gasped aloud when my feet were unconsciously sloshed with putrid, musky oil residue that were paddling underneath my sandals. Gazing down, I began to piece together the enigmatic situation - it was slick, densely outstretched cartridges of oil that was threatening to overspill underneath the cracks of the door.

"DON'T YOU DARE TALK TO YOUR MOTHER LIKE THAT!" I roared with a surprisingly masculine tone, by now using every single ounce of energy capable of exiting my body, on each and every jerk I created to break down the wall with my side. I was overcome with a sensation I couldn't comprehend - at first, I was quite angry at the child even talking to his mother that way, screaming at her. Then, I was imbued with a sensation that caused me to virtually break down the walls with my bare fists and knock some sense into the child. Aiko, was a victim. His own mother.

Soon afterwards, he let out a dastardly cry. Oh how he cried. It was riddled with the same distraught woman i'd sensed inside his soul that weeped with a mournful, braying tone as she searched for her closure. On the other hand, the despairing elderly man whom was now croaking at their wit's ends, no longer sang with the same cherishing, revelling voice which once brought him happiness. He was only enshrouded with mortal petrification.

Afraid of singing. Afraid of opening.

I twitched when my bruised knuckles were bleached with the same swelling as beforehand, in the presence of Chizuru. They were in a trembling state, as I squeezed them tightly over my head; crouching down onto the ground with my knees poking into the door, I hung my head with an expression of... guilt.

"Kobe... I'm sorry for what I've done. You must've been hurting when I didn't tell you about your father's death." Slowly, I unwinded with my slanted eyes intently eyeing the ground, incapable of shedding any tears of my cardinal sin I'd professed.

As the child continued to wail, banging into the frame of the walls causing the whole house's foundations to shudder, I was caught in my own flared range of self deprecation. He was in shattered, contorted chords that didn't care about how morbid they sounded, only erroneously embellished in their insidious entangled wrath.

"I let you live without ease... because I broke the promise I made to your late father, to protect you and your mother..." I trailed off in a groggy tone that was husky, feeling the weight of my suffocating, wallowing tears that danced down my stiffened cheeks.

"Chiara my child, that's enough dear..." Aiko, whom crouched down behind me, resorted to patting my back diligently with her palm. She soothed me with her motherly tone that spoke of motherly hospitality that I yearned as a teenager for so long... oh how I missed my mother.

But how I missed, the chance to bring the family together.

"No! It won't ever be enough... because of me... because I took away your family, and yet he gave that sword to me . " I stifled my hiccuping, laboured breath with my forlorn frown whilst turning over my shoulder momentarily to meet the woman's exasperated face, addressing the child with my pained eyes searching, searching and searching beyond the door. "Kobe, I didn't want you to feel this alone, I promise you. I'm... I'm so sorry..."

Hauling myself up to my feet, I begun proceeding to rap my knuckles into the wooden texture of the Shoji, until I could suddenly feel the gradual burden of the object behind the door hesitate. It began to squirm evidently by the door's robust hinges squeaking tentatively, as I delved into the peeking crevice which acted as an opening between the wall and door.

However, it was shortly outlived. A gust of wind acted as wind resistance to my plight, resulting in my body flung backwards again off my feet. Again, I was gravely awaiting the moment when my body would be smacked precariously against the decimating flat wall behind me.

The landing was quite moderate compared to previous instances. I managed to reel myself back to solid conscience, hereafter braving the situation with a cracked, sprawled smile of contumacy. It was engraved in my resolve and pride, to seek a resolution to Kobe's concealed pain that was reflected as a deleterious, murderous motive.

"Kobe... We're... going to come in now!" I grunted when I felt that I couldn't bring myself up to my feet properly, for the searing pain inflicted at my chest and sides were slowly, and gradually accumulating. It was sickening. I couldn't feel my muscles as they naturally restricted and contracted, leaving me to wobble and step backwards.

I felt myself seeping into unknown arms. They were quite stolid and stoic, as they allowed me to sink further into the embrace. Initially, I presumed the arms would belong to Aiko whom was wrenched with a sullen, mute sob beside me. When I found my stiffened gaze reach her crumpled eyes laying on me, it was in that moment that I knew, it was someone else whom caught me.

Digressively, my eyes wandered around my shoulder, my head turned voluntarily.

Okita.

"He's been like this since we'd sold the house. I'm afraid... he'll never be the same..." Aiko, the heavy hearted woman, proceeded to keel over. In a sleezed voice, she wept and wept with her hands burrowed onto her heated face, although my mind was burnished by the captivating presence of a cool Okita.

I turned to Okita's endearing jaded eyes which followed Aiko's disdained body melt with embarrassment and entangled despair, as he quietly nodded in a curt motion for me to attend to the woman. His lips were sealed shut, shoulders caved inwards to lean close, using his fist to wipe the corner of his mouth. Without another spoken word, I shuffled out of his entwined arms to proceed comforting Aiko with my arms draped over her shoulders.

I had no clue Okita had taken to following after me. Perhaps Heisuke too was somewhere along the lines of haplessly bounding back, though I was effortless flabbergasted when the obsolete man handed me scrutinising flat orbs, remarking that it was time for me to leave with Aiko. Somewhere safe.

Firstly, I wasn't too pleased by his beckoning tone which reciprocated his usual tone with the Shinsengumi. As if I were an ordinary soldier in need of work to busy myself with. Ergo, by the time his inquiring tone had managed to mesmerise me, I found myself demurely ushering Aiko out of the room with a guiding hand rested on her hip.

Brushing past Okita, I had no clue that he would be responsible for any further deeds.

3rd P.O.V

Souji found himself alone in that particular corridor, which was littered with debris and wooden rubble, and found it quite bemusing. Tucking his arm into the folds of his undergarments for extrapolating any warmth radiating from his masculine build, he rubbed his smooth chin with his fingers. He found the rattling of the mysteriously vague apparition quite an ennui, alongside the thought of it being annoying.

"Oi, kid. You don't have to make such a big fuss." Glancing down at the drenched floorboards covered with sticky residue of a potential leakage, he found himself utterly disturbed by the gasping sobs audible from behind the door. "Sure it's depressing, someone died. But you got your mom. Keep her happy, would you?"

Souji ultimately scrunched the bridge of his nose with his massaging fingers, upon sensing his oddly familiar condescending tone. Perhaps - he noted to oneself and no one in particular - one day, Mitsu Okita would be proud of his fatherly and abiding tone. Souji quickly evaded that illusion by the sounds of scuffled feet pep into his ears.

He could sense a blade being drawn out of its blade in a mute, violative manner, though took no heed nor suspicion towards it. Perfunctorily, he ran a hand through his hairline, his jaw clenched and eyes narrowed.

"I don't want to be lonely like this anymore..." the quivered voice shuddered with every lapping breath in a tiny, tiny moment. "I'm scared..."

"But what you're doing, is pushing the people who care about you the most, away." Souji cooed in a soothing, cajoling voice from behind the barricading door, unbeknownst that his time resembled someone close.

"I hate them..." the child's torrent of emotions threatened to rise again in a venomous glowering feat, "they tell me things I already know, they steal things my father owned."

Again, in a broken, thoughtful voice, the child emitted a croak.

"Everything... daddy had, is gone."

Souji was not experienced in this region. Childcare after a traumatic experience, was not his forte. If ever it was, he was sure that he would attract the attention of many and fill the void in his heart with the amiable candor of many alike. Searching further into his heart, there was an afflicted flurry of distress within him; he wasn't sure entirely what was going on in his occupied head at the time, leading him to opening his mouth without batting an eye.

"I know how that feels. Sometimes it feels the best method - to hoard everything that doesn't belong to others, for yourself," sighing with exasperation, he was abstained from lashing out, "it... it doesn't work like that."

Souji acceded with the fact he did not know the child. Other than the bare, friable information that he received from Chiara being that the child was experiencing grief a few years after the passing of his father, he was virtually left abstrusely hanging on to every word the child uttered. Although, in those passing moments which lingered by slowly, he could feel each other sinking further into each other's hearts; learning more about one and another from a common conception.

Much to his bewilderment, he immediately jerked backwards when another surprising pound of the door would tremor in the shuddering foundations of the household. Souji exhaled a quiet breath. Pressing his forehead against the door to gain a leverage of better auditory advantage, he cracked open a strange, wild smile that tugged at the corners of his lips.

His emerald eyes gleamed mischievously, as his husky tone lowed gently.

"Hey, you want to know a secret?" Souji whispered with a tenderness that matched his expression once the child fell deathly silent from behind the door, leading him to breaking into a hoarse chuckle. "Thought so."

A silence ensued in tight pursuit after Souji sprung upon the curious statement which mesmerised the child, leading them to become awfully rapt with awe.

"How should I say this...?" Souji hummed despite the clear threat of admonishing the child a dangerous message, yet he clearly seemed jovial and carefree. However, he shortly turned grim and sullen, when he felt his avarice thoughts contradict his actions.

Contradict the people around him. Kondou.

Contradict Chiara...

"The best way in life to refrain from falling into the pits of grief and despair, is to fill that hole of sorrow, with happiness. Your mother, friends, Chiara even... those people will help you. Because they too, are influenced by their own shares of grief," Souji felt his adroit tone resonating within the compact compound of the residence, leading him to dismissively whistle between his teeth to conclude his final thoughts, "kid, I truly am, sorry for you. Because you're exactly like me."

"Although now, you have a chance, to not share the same consequences I'm facing as an adult, which I created as a child - because of what I did to the people around me at your age," resting his forehead into the dull edge of the sleek furnished door, Souji lit open a smile which spoke of a thousand tales , "Kobe, don't hurt your mother enough as is she. Tend and look after her - you think you can do that, for your big brother?"

He felt his eyes avert from their original level, whispering under his breath when he felt his lowered fingertips graze against the frozen surface of the panelling. I have to leave you now, Souji. Don't take the strain of our mother's death like this.

When no answer, contempt nor content sought itself to reach Souji's stance behind the door, he let out a devastatingly pained sigh. Luckily he didn't seem agog or boastfully grandiose with those bitter thoughts he shared, therefore he hadn't felt too embarrassed to converse with the child.

When he spun around on his heel, he felt his actions being closely trained by another fellow being. There at the end of the hallway, close to the sharp corner, was Chiara - the face he'd followed back to this location. Secretly, he'd internally bit his lip and prayed she hadn't glimpsed that sense of vulnerability he spilled in a manner of confiding in the child. At her tentative smile which brought him to enigmatically deviate them down to the ground, he was earnestly jolted when the Shoji to the barred room zipped open.

In, came bounding a child no shorter than Souji's mid-calf.

Whose eyes were devoted with an amber, lustrous and pure. Its flecks of joyful radiant gold were scintillating in the sparse candlelight bestowed by the oiled candles scattered in the shelves of the narrow hallway. In each arms was a sword that screeched against the ground due to its gargantuan heaviness that reeled them backwards, until eventually reaching the site of the pair of women at the end of the corridor.

There was no animosity in the cherishing affection that was passed to each family member. Kobe, whom was delighted at the appearance of his long-lost "Uncle", leaped into the older figure's arms. Chiara was quite hefty with her bulky build yet slender stature, securing him by the legs to her hips. Aiko was already shedding a few tears, pincing his cheeks with her thumbs. The demonic presence that had latched onto the grovelling family, was overcome and exorcised.

There was no fear in being each other's confidants, nor fear in becoming each other's pedestals in the steps of achieving their dreams. Souji noted, in those moments upon gazing at the tightly knitted trio, on how motherly Chiara deemed herself to be.

Pride, for who she became.

For who she was.

1st P.O.V

I howled when Aiko managed to secure my cheeks in her opposing index fingers, pinching them with tight vigour. As she drew me into a heartfelt embrace, she managed to slip in an extra word on Kobe's health - he was still feeling under the weather and shy, thus he was absent at our departure.

At the exchanged words, I squeezed her shoulder with a reassuring, firm look. However, as I began to profess my gratitude and perform any adulation towards the single mother, Heisuke appeared from the thicket of the nighttime bushes and weeds.

Covered head to toe in a layer of drenched, moist mud hailing from the marshes, he spat out the egregious layers of rimmed grime that fell between each strands of his wet hair. Fortunately, he commented on how his sudden appearance wasn't as drastic as compared to the tremendously fortuitous news; waving the pamphlets which were guidelines and maps of the area in one hand, alongside baggage that belonged to the group in the other, was enough for us to burst into a hoorah.

"Heisuke." Okita simultaneously took a curt gander down at the juvenile lad's packages which were discarded on the porch of the house, turning his back from the entrance to bestow a belligerent frown of hostility. "Where is my stuff - amongst all your pride and bullshit?"

"You forgot Okita's things," I chimed in, exchanging weary looks with a mirthful Aiko.

\- a few moments later 

Okita had certainly no adjudication in his heart to pity or forgive Heisuke's simple blunder, and most definitely had he not felt any remorse at the whining boy amongst our trek back to the hot springs estate. The man held a gorgeous, yet deadly leer in his eyes as he sat before Old Shizuka that was aimed at Heisuke beside him, even as the woman began chortling in a frail manner.

"I never would believe you'd already be previously acquainted with Miss Aiko! You do seem rather... antisocial." Shizuka wagged her tongue with a shake of her head, as I balled up my fist at her aimed begrudging remark. She still hadn't forgiven me after my murderous intent of snapping her neck.

"I mean your presence! Otherworldly!" She waved me off with a dismissive hand, handing me a warm cup of distilling green tea.

Accepting the cup with a condensed bow, I was Daphnean in the sense I demurely gripped ahold of the cup with my bound and contused hands only offered a mild sting to the boiling temptress of tea.

"Hmm." Okita elicited a self-esteemed, accomplished noise that was connoted in my opinion, as quite dubious and pompous. As if he was assuming he was right on a subject.

Oh... right. Otherworldly - I refrained from jolting my cup at the sensation which chilled my bones, reciting the past instances in which assured my position as a time traveller. I was not from Edo Japan, nor was my actual home in Kyoto. My occupation was not primarily part of the Shinsengumi, and my unrequited love was not actually with Okita Souji. Was that right?

I stared into the swirling pool of gradated lukewarm tea which poured steam into my nostrils, filling me with a redolent nostalgia I wasn't even sure i'd experienced before. It felt ever so homely, despite the prior affirmation that this was not my home.

I paused with hesitation in my implanted voice, that was projected to the simmered room. "Yes... I suppose I am quite otherworldly. In fact... i'm from an estimate of 200 years into the future." My sulking countenance proved to the rest of the company just how serious and riled up I was, "both me, and my sister, we were trekking through a forest when I found myself lost and stumbling down a river. I can't swim. I almost drowned. I believe my sister also accompanied me in flight, too. But not really my sister. Where is she? I believe she's being brainwashed from what I gather, by Ochimizu."

When I meekly glanced up, I was dismayed by the fact that i'd probably stumbled upon my words. For everyone was etched with their own similarly stunned visages, blinking tediously before Shizuka cleared her throat to prevent any awkwardness to manage to capture the moment.

"I uh... meant your physique. For a woman, it's otherworldly to be a solider AND have such muscles." She grimaced dourly when she glanced at my

hardened demeanour.

From what i'd gathered i'd completely fucked up a medieval joke and allowed it to swoosh over my head. I messed up. Ducking my head down to pent up any loose fissures of agitated wrath which threatened to splurge, I gulped down the amassed volume of hot-piping tea down my gullet.

"But in any case! My name's Shizuka - widow of the primary owner of this estate." Shizuka clapped her hands together with sheer embellished delight, before bowing comically towards us, "and before you government-assisting fine people skedaddle, I might as well offer a chance for all of you to experience our luxurious and highly successful Onsen! Free of charge! But..."

Her eyes were entranced with a swindling frown, eyes thinned with her eyebrows furrowed heavily. Victimising stare. She was intently mustering all her scorn into Okita with repugnance, before cocking her brow heavily at him. "Not you. You'd probably contaminate the pools."

As she begun to scrunch up the rest of the folds accumulating her face, I was already up to my feet. There wasn't any time to perform a disgusted "excuse me?"

Wrenching my fist until it dug into her kimono's collar, Shizuka was deftly thrown off her feet. She hung by my single fist sweeping her off her feet and dangling her in the air, below my head. Filled with a ludicrous anger that I masked with my Shinsengumi profession, I snarled turbulently at her detrimental, pitiful state.

"You might as well forget the bloody offer. If you're going to single out my Captain like that - if he won't bathe, then neither will I!" I cried defensively, adducing to the conversation my neglect to her excessive offers that singled out and excluded the poor Captain.

"Yeah! You sick, horrible woman! Souji only has a permanent cold and you want us to quarantine him as if he's a rat? It's natural to be ill!" Heisuke jumped to the gun with trained acuteness, yapping and yapping with his shoulders hunched ready to pounce upon the frayed, senior woman.

"I think those mild conditions of what you call a 'cold' will only be confirmed when your companion guarantees it." Shizuka retorted in her usual reprimanding tone, that caused me to sink further and further down.

I unhanded her, for she spoke sense that was clearer as a incandescent sun on a cumulus-free sky. She was right, spot on. But... Was she truly attempting to humiliate Okita? I glanced back at him and searchingly stared into his eyes, albeit they only offered a composed steady wariness that contrasted Heisuke's hyper tone.

"Oi! Won't you tell me Souji?" Heisuke whined as he glared furiously into the man's reserved body seated without a loose breath standing in its end, for he held no tension despite the rising suspicion. Heisuke, eventually resorted to staring at me, to offer any evoking information.

With a crestfallen countenance, I remarked that I was keeping my side of a bargain long concocted before the days of the Shinsengumi career I followed. Shortly, I followed the concluding sentence by stating I was respecting Okita's space, yet he intervened swiftly.

"I've got Tuberculosis." There wasn't any strain on his voice, though the effort to continuously keep sharply reserved was dimming on him. Allowing it to reign over the flabbergasted atmosphere, he turned to me with a sort of... expression of mismatched gratitude. "And also... it's not a secret anymore. Thanks for keeping it though..."

Never did I ever see Heisuke seem so defeated, so brutally wounded by Okita's iscanotic act of betrayal. It must've truly came across as a shock, for he began scrunching up his fists into balls, then relieving the stress from them. Back, and forth. As if he were toying with his hands, wondering what his next move should be. Swayed by his own morales to keep silent, he gritted his teeth with his turquoise murky irises casted downwards. "You mean... to tell me that... you've had it this entire time - and you didn't tell us?!"

I could finally find myself appreciating the situation I was in , yet finding myself mortally disturbed by the mirror scenario Heisuke was facing in the silent seething of Okita, as I did, not too long ago. Okita was pondering for a moment.

"I wasn't obliged to tell you." He spoke effortlessly impassive.

"But - we could help you find medicine! All three of us! I know we can help you if we work together. We could even let you get off work and-"

"THAT'S EXACTLY WHY I DIDN'T WANT TO TELL YOU! I DON'T NEED YOUR PITY TOUDOU HEISUKE!" Okita snapped all of a sudden in an amplified frenzy, as I felt my heart plunge.

It was cold, deliberate and sharp. Okita's broke words were felt by all of us, especially the sharp edge. I must admit, I felt myself feeling empathetic for the relentless Heisuke whom shrank back into his seat on the tatami, eyes gingerly aimed towards the floor. Both of them, addled with a deluded demoralisation as they sank into their own heavily imbued testosterone. And I was stuck in the middle.

Seeking to find the avid situation reach its end, I piped up with a curious expression facing Shizuka's grave hooded eyes.

"Old Dear Shizuka - is it the there are demons and fantastical creatures amongst us, in Japan?" I enquired petulantly.

"Only if you believe there to be," returned the woman shortly.

It was deliriously cryptic, and far beyond the comprehension of any of our likes. In fact, it proceeded to add a further level of awkwardness I couldn't bear to be on par with, thus leading me to urge her onwards with the icebreaker, "do you believe... they could possess people? Take the hide of the human's skin and dwell?"

The old woman shrug haplessly, for she didn't appear to know a single clue, "seeing is believing! I was brought up in a religious environment and so... from experience, I suppose, I can be quite fearful of bad omens or instances. Demons take advantage of our low times."

\- later

When early morning struck the compound, Heisuke was the first to scavenge for Okita's baggage. Retrieving it was with steady ease, although sanctioning in Okita's mercy was quite the opposite. We left without further words expressed towards Shizuka, in unison fear we would rupture the sentimental emotions heartfelt by the previous Ichi family reunion.

Okita began to amble in my direction, bending down to pinch my cheeks, "don't run off again ChiChi. I always have to clean up."

Despite initially feeling quite insular to his chiding comment, one look directed at Heisuke just proved their unprecedented and reprehensible animosity. He only stared from the corner of his eyes back at us, keeping a respectable distance away.

"No! I've had enough," I barked with a gigantic slap of Okita's hands away from my face, stepping in between the hostile duo, "we can't keep going like this! You two - make up!"

They both groaned in projected similarity, evident they weren't in the mood to comply with me. Their casted gazes even indicated they didn't feel the need to take orders from a petulant woman, which led me to snatching Okita's hand. The man in question jerked with a slight stammer.

"What!" He shrilled.

Dragging him along by the tugged hand, I began to saunter towards Heisuke garbed with a sincere expression. Facing him, I resorted to handing him Okita's hand which was interlocked with my own, my face censured with a severe frown.

"I'm sorry Heisuke, on behalf of Okita. I truly believe it was in his best intentions to refrain from bestowing you with any information regarding his health. That's why he didn't make any further excuses when he told you." I sported a scowl when Okita elicited a pepped grin at my remark projected in his defense, which I contradicted with another tight slap across his wrist, "Captain Okita! Straighten up. We're military assigned by the Shogunate - you're being excessively childish!"

Strangely, Heisuke barked out raucous laughter at our antics. His countenance, previously riddled with a scornful edge, was now defined with his large beam sprawled across his cheeks.

When Okita managed to dart his hand back from my vice grip comically, I found that Heisuke was bitterly reminiscent for a split second.

Had I seen something that I wasn't supposed to see, across Heisuke's face? I believed that he seemed rather yearning, rubbing his shoulder with his knuckle pad gingerly and tentatively. As if he was about to break out with some terrifying news.

"Guys.. you go on ahead on the direction back to Kyoto," he croaked in a small noise, "whilst you guys were gone... I asked for directions that led to the other direction in the crossroad."

I was speechless. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. It was daunting cold realism which slapped me hard across the face, leaving me to raise my eye level at Heisuke's averted eyes. Cumulative tear drops began to glisten and prick my eyes, gingerly wiping them away with the back of my sleeves; my tear ducts were moistened and threatened to splurge, as my nostrils snivelled. Please don't cry.

Don't cry. Oh god please don't cry Chiara. Not now.

He didn't look at us one bit, even as I was defending him with a dumbstruck face.

"B-But... didn't you want to come back with us? Heisuke Captain... are you sure you want to go down that path? Please, please don't go," I begged with pleading eyes, pausing for a second to exclaim, "we could become enemies down the line... Please listen to me!"

Much to my dismay, Heisuke was rooted to the floor without a budge in my direction. Thus, he kept firm with his thoughts. Valiantly, he steeled his jaw until his hung gaze finally met my cajoling demeanour, suddenly handing me the thumbs up. I didn't realise at the time just how much his eyes were brimming with tears.

"Well... then... i'm counting on you! To swoop in and save me!" He choked with a forced laugh that actually deemed itself raspy and overwhelmed with repressed emotions.

He was acting tough. And because of that, I felt decrepit and friable with the time's gone past. There were so many questions that were formatting in my mind, as i'd only just begun to discover Heisuke, and his brilliant mind. His compassion that held no boundary, his secret and clandestine life which shied away from the rest of the Shinsengumi. His broken relations with his pathetic family that held no love towards him, and his ongoing efforts to keep loyalty towards the ones that meant the most to him. What was so special with parting ways with us, especially in this vulnerable moment.

He belonged with us.

"Why... Heisuke? Why?" I protested with an amplified pitch, blinking away the profuse tears that were frustratingly clambering down my cheeks. I was growing desperate. My voice was gradually being broken down into nickering sobs, "why are you doing this? Why can't you stay?"

"I... can't. I need to stay with Itô. On the day I pledged myself to the Guardians of the Tomb, was the day that I pledged alliance with him." He announced with his pitying eyes reaching my crumbled body, "it's something I got to do as a man. You know...?"

I dismissed his melancholic tone with my surging anger bubbling inside me. He couldn't go. He needs to stay. They would never treat him right. I couldn't find it in my heart to tell him what i'd wanted to say - what I needed to inform him, as his friend. I was a defeatist in the sense that I was afraid of confronting his dilemma with something as extreme as the potential death of all his comrades. Of Itô. If I told him... would he stay?

"I guess this is goodbye. Um!" He pepped up with an ample stumble backwards, saluting us. "Tell Shinpachi, Sano and even Hijikata - I want to see them again when they're finally cool!"

He was leaving. Another person leaving.

He began to chuckle to himself, forcing his robotic body to face his back towards us. I could feel his body waver for a split second, contemplating his actions and reflecting on the past instances, before steering his rigid foot to take another step in the direction accounted. He wasn't absconding because he hadn't done anything wrong, but with every step he took in the direction towards the alternate route, I felt the fear in my eyes gouge my conscience.

I outstretched an arm, as if to halt Heisuke. When it didn't reach him, it was as if by Okita's touch lightly placed on my shoulder, that reeled me back to reality. Pivoting on my feel, I faced his mournful expression once he began shaking his head to refrain me from performing anything drastic. Stopping me in my tracks meant that I was left feeling empty, as if someone had ripped out my heart and left it to bleed.


	6. 6 The Eternal Gamble

"The Indolence Arc - Stave Two."

1st P.O.V

The sky was reputed as being the most winging of days; it penalised any optimistic thoughts. It was grim. Jovial sun tucked behind the densely compact hovering clouds, thus accentuated the dusky tone of the surrounding area.

In fact, I was ever so sure that as I continued to deviate my gaze upwards in shrill hopes I'd manage to catch a glimpse of sunlight. Anon. There was nothing. After all, I was in desperate jeopardy after Heisuke's departure from the three-man company, leaving me trailing behind a facetious Okita. Although, in a sense, I must've contradicted that statement, as he was as silent as a Syrian hamster in the dwelling of its desert home, never taking any sidelong glances back at my trudging state.

I was still in denial over Heisuke's departure. Glazing my eyes over the verdant evergreen spanning further than my eyes, and felt dense coverage of the bushes in the distance, I could only meekly replay the previous farewell in my head. The lad's small, grateful smile. His lowered head, wavering hands and strong resolve which spoke further than what his lips intended. I shed my own tears, quietly accepting his doleful farewell, before tagging along behind Okita's stoic strides.

Beforehand, we'd carefully plotted our adhered journey back home through analysis over the map gifted by Heisuke; no doubt we'd had in our mind, that it was in fact the path Heisuke offered in the beginning, which we were supposed to follow. I suppose we were bewitched by the beauty of the comforting route, that we never took heed to its warding, threatening contents.

As we continued down the coniferous woods, bound together by the silences we hastily shared, I paused for a brief second. Aligning most of my strewn confidence, I cleared my throat to garner his attention; true to my word, I awfully destined myself to figuring out exactly what had happened between him and the child - Kobe.

Coincidentally, whilst I'd been ushering his delicate mother from her shambled state, I'd returned to the young master's chambers to accomplish the inner goal I'd set myself. I couldn't allow him to be there any longer with... the dangers of Kobe. However, the valiant thought was instantly dashed away, when Okita was found with a deathly pallid complexion, staring beyond my dilated eyes. And not to mention, Kobe with a heartfelt grin across his radiant features.

"Okita," I paused to allow the grandeur words to settle in the distance between us, before sharply stepping forward, "what exactly happened between you and Kobe? - the child, I mean."

He paused from his nonchalant state, and I deemed that he took less interest in the situation than I, to answer my beckoning call. Although, when he cocked his head over his shoulder to meet my attentive stare, I was bewildered by his dark, elusive eyes that almost seemed to summon me further than any voicing.

"Mutual understanding." He forwardly retorted, and that was the end of the discussion.

The term mutual understanding may have many connotations and denote a series of individual beliefs; it may be shared from empathy towards another being, or having an understanding of a fellow person whom shared the similar experience as you. Irregardless, mutual understanding is something that can never be dourly overlooked - it's the respectful, yet mysteriously profound nature of acknowledging another person, even if their relations weren't tight. Often, it would connote to the sacrificial nature someone may have for the sake of another, such as passions, aspirations, or esteemed goals in mind.

I believe Okita did not hold that trait, as ruthless as I sound. For, in the past, I'd discovered the many sides to his character; from the depths of Ikedaya, to his vulnerable nature at Zenzaiya. The perception led me to believe I was rather dependant on analysing his character, which meant that I'd find myself utterly distracted by his multitudes of stories to share. Heisuke could bargain with me, or even share each and every single story he'd shared with Okita - but he could not easily sway me from my bitter state. Nor, from my bitter experiences in his wrath.

The azure mist settled down onto the ground, enshrouding the horizon of my pupils to be restricted by the everlasting fog. Although it deemed oneself to be substantially infinitesimal, as we progressed our single-lined marches throughout each and every route weaving in through the avenues, it became clear that it was not the only tribulation on our malicious path. We paused behind the extensions of river reeds tangled between two hickory bushes.

Beyond the wilderness, jabbers of distant harking songbirds, and whoops of passing breezes, was a set of water spanning beyond our bodies. As meek as a tedious gushing water spring in the cracks running amok a wall, the springs of water rushed in magnitude of coursing bodies down in the thicket of the undergrowth. Shallow yet murky to the perceiving eyes, the water didn't bestow a single shred of insight into its contents; taking a few nimble steps backwards, I refrained and cautioned myself from overstepping the boundaries.

I took a glance right. The brambles obstructed another potential path leading us around the river of broad nautical passage, thus causing me to curse. Couldn't head that way.

I took a flicker of my eyes projection in the direction of left. There was an evident drop in the steep path which led to another set of countless miles of further perplexing roadwork, and I could tell that neither of us were ensured of a proper adhering route to follow back to Kyoto. The map, suggested taking a boat across the river - where was it? We couldn't head that way.

I could feel Okita's judgmental, vitriolic eyes burn into the back of my neck as I hobbled backwards. In an instant, it was as if I was a the mercy of the element of surprise, for I was flabbergasted by Okita ringing around his entire collection of baggage, food supplies, canisters of sterilised water and fundamental weaponry over his shoulder, slinging them around his back.

He suddenly revealed a smooth, concentrated expression across his porcelain features, using his thumb to measure out the distance between the sides of the river body, and the distance which surpassed both of our keening eyes. Furtively, there was a glimmer of curiosity brimming from behind his jaded eyes, that spoke of foretold joy and ecstasy - I could only hold on to each and every action he partook in, before gaping at his body plunging into the Winter river.

"Okita!" I yelped on an instinctive whim, shuffling with my heels digging into the cobblestone path reading till the end of the drop. Wouldn't it be more efficient to wait until dusk and set camp, before finding another safe route?

Wading in the seethingly freezing temperatures of the river, Okita appeared complacent with the task set his mind. As if, nothing could sway him in the way envisioning himself back at home with Kondou Isami would. As I stared into his piercing, intoxicatingly fern eyes, I felt shock emerge from my raspy throat.

"Why don't you follow along? The current is quite calm - in a few minutes we could reach the other side." He exclaimed over his shoulder amongst the rage of water already latching onto his soaked clothes, reaching heftily up to his torso.

I couldn't bring myself to reach eye contact with him, nor could I possibly deviate my eyes down at the submerged depths beyond my feet. At the ledge of the dry ground was perfectly fine, but alas was I issued with horrible, horrible prophesies of my demise; truth be told, I could not swim neither was I elated by the ideal method of trekking forward. I did not, want to go across.

Fear gripped me.

"I... I can't." I only guffawed, my left hand shot down my neck to rub it tediously. Feeling the florid complexion of my paled skin dart upwards, I began to agitatedly move my body backwards and forwards. "I-I'll find another way across! Just wait for me!"

He severely nodded, but begun to sneer in a deadbeat manner, "I'll pick you up if you take too long. Less than a few minutes."

Timidly, I allowed Okita to wade further across the tidal range of water, stifling the gasp at my throat when he proceeded to disintegrate with the calling mist. His whole figure, was engulfed by the concealing jaws of the fog swirled around his body, leaving only the putrid pungency of freshwater.

The times dwindled onwards, leaving only a few minutes. Scooting backwards, releasing myself of my equipment and placing them beside my hip, I managed to seat myself down against a moist tree; irregardless of its dense moss accumulating at its skin, I allowed my heavy sandals to sink into the river bank's marsh, shivering as I waited. And waited. And... waited. Eyes searching the distance with the cumulative paranoia seeping in my bones.

What happened? It was more than a few minutes - it was inexplicably half an hour. Why was he delayed on the trip back? Clutching ahold of my calves whilst drawing them closer to my chin, I couldn't help but have another thought edge in my mind.

He left me.

The morbid, dull petrification managed to seethe inside me, for I couldn't help but bellow in a desperate voice. It felt tiny, my tongue left with a bitter residue as my spine began to scorch up in devastating heat.

"Okita! Okita! Come back... why are you taking so long? Please return." My friable confidence managed to crumble with the prior resilience that caused me to despise Okita - now, I was dependant on his bodily return, or else I'd bring myself to do something. What would I do? I was sure enough that I'd-

"I'm here." A familiar voice resonated in the hollow region of the mist-stretching river, appearing at the foot of the ledge without his equipment. His murky orbs were blisteringly staring up at me, awaiting my next move to join him in the water; I was gleeful in the sense he left his equipment just to take a tour with me, although guilt profusely bundled at my inner conscience.

He hadn't left me.

"I thought you'd left... Gosh..." my hammering heart refused to cease, pounding my fist into my chest to pause its erroneous wake. Thankfully, he only responded with a knowing grunt, unfazed by my projected paranoia. Instead, he proceeded to gesture for myself to join him, cocking his head in the direction of the water's surface.

"Come along. The current's a bit stronger now, and I'm in front so all you need to do is just follow me," he chided, pausing to concoct another gesture for me to hand him all my equipment; he was taller, and more broad, thus meaning that he hadn't the chance of stacking over in the water. Strong. I handed my equipment over with reluctance, easing it over his shoulders with great pride.

Then, he turned in the other direction to face the current, pivoting on his heel to proceed wading. Again, leaving me to twiddle my thumbs again.

Despite my initial tentativeness to leap into the water ecstatically, I found myself contemplating otherwise. What on Earth was I doing? I was simply biding my time and causing more hassle for Okita to solve. I was, as horrendous as it connotes itself to be, being childish and girly.

Soaking up all my courage that had swarmed me at the Tosa Estate all those days ago, I had to push away my irate fear of the unknown depths. It was utterly irrational and caused us both to suffer in response, leaving me to gently scoot up close to the edge. Dipping my sandals into the water only caused me to artfully quake, for its sheer coolness was something inexperienced and alien. Again, proceeding to sway my body in the other direction, I began hauling myself slowly into the water from behind, arms propelled on the dirt.

Suddenly, I yelped, causing me to retract backwards into the river. Somehow i'd managed to slip from my constricting hold on the slippery grass, mouth bundling with water.

"W-Wait for me... Okita!" I gurgled desperate, flailing my hands by the roars of the current sweeping me backwards. I was ultimately facing a weak point by being directed with my back facing the egregious rushing torrents, yet my most prestigious error was the fact I could not swim. What was I supposed to do?

What did my sisters do? They tried to float whenever at the beach's shoreline, right? But I'd never experienced such a thing! All my life the constant fear of being swept up without control in the water had built up for this exact situation, as I felt my nostrils burning up. Something had breached every pore, hole, and sensitive part of my body with this absurd specimen; showering was fine, bathing was fine...

This was not fine. I could feel my uncomfortable reaching new heights.

"Ah! Argh... damn... it... HELP! HELP! HELP!" Before i'd realised it, I was whining and vigorously sobbing in the depths of the colliding water, my bones rattling when i'd landed with a thud against loose boulders belonging to the water's route. Swept up, I couldn't float or even allow my windpipe to breathe. Everything was clamped up, and it was only a matter of time before my stamina would deplete erratically. Inevitably drown...

"Up we go." I felt someone heave and grunt in exerted effort beside me, their husky voice penetrating my trepidation and frenzy; conversely, my tears were already streaming down my face, yet I couldn't feel them plaster onto my reddened face. They just complacently flowed alongside the river bed, as I was hauled from behind.

Similar to a cat being lifted by its owner, I was dangled by the armpits by an unknown figure rescuing my forbidden plight into the dangers of lurking water, causing me to halt my paddling arms to subside and splashing water to settle. Everything went calm, as hard as I frustratedly wept.

"I can't believe you actually followed along. A heart of a lion, no doubt." Ensued, was an erupted deep chuckle that was hazy in my water-logged ears.

Tremendously, I feigned ignorance and latched ahold of his chest. Tightening my grip harder on his crinkled folds of his archaic kimono, I whimpered evidently by the flushed water escaping my wrinkled nose; I hated it, hated hated hated and it was pleading Okita in my mind, to leave. To leave this god damn place and get out of here...

Why had Heisuke left?

Okita could tell that there was more to my hiccuping sobs and relentless tears than just heaps of embarrassment from flopping into the water. Scooping me up in his muscular arms, he titled his stance in a way that I was incontestable in the belief he was carrying me safely across via bridal style. Perchance his indefatigable fashion caused my pained breaths to slowly resume in their normal pace; I was blissfully unaware of my pounding heart threatening to splurge.

"Put your hands around my neck. You'll fall off otherwise." He lamented amongst the rage of thunderous water, yet I gingerly obliged by gathering my arms and pinning them his nape. At that point, I felt myself unintentionally brush against his shoulder-length bangs that were softly indulging to the touch, although I immediately stopped myself from even touching any longer .

As he lugged us across, I felt myself blatantly staring up at his adroit features. From his sharp nose excellently crafted to compliment his sharp cheekbones sunken from his pallid state, to his rimmed eyelashes as long as a camel's. It was quite intimate allowing myself to be sheltered under his arms, but I was disenfranchised by his acidulous expression flickering down at me instantly. I averted my eyes in embarrassment, yet with the knowledge i'd always have to meet his sardonic eyes. There was nothing, behind them.

\- moments later

Grovelling under my askew breath shallow by the laborious weight of soggy armour, I proceeded to tumble my cropped hair with a simple cloth dished from my sleeves. So far, we'd decided to set camp for precautions beside the edge of the river's other side, an afflatus of rest lulling us to abide by Mother Nature's rules.

In any case, the clouds hadn't settled from their hostile state; it was enough for me to curse visibly and audibly as I was sat behind some hefty bushes half-naked. 'Course, it was a great opportunity to dry out the rest of my clothes hanging above me by a single cord, so as long as the humidity kept up its state. Furthermore, the belief that Okita would keep content behind the array of vegetation was something I had to appease myself with.

"If only I had a hair dryer..." I sharply hissed, rustling the cotton cloth in between my hairline and forehead impatiently.

"Something about dry hair? You mean a hair dryer?" Okita perked up in a brazen manner from behind the shelter of the bushes, tapping his heel against the ground.

"You have one?" I gasped with ecstasy, pausing momentarily to revel in the delight of the discovery. What pure, unadulterated joy! I could feel myself beaming as I awaited him to bestow me one.

"No. I was just mimicking you." He immediately proclaimed, as I was left scowling harshly.

I didn't respond, too wound up by his petulant demeanour to compose myself. I begun violently ruffling my head with the cloth.

"So why did you freak out? Had some issues with getting yourself wet?" Okita hypothesised with another attempt to extract information out of me, which I responded rather curtly.

"No... that's a strange assumption."

"Well, I'd like to know, regardless of it being strange or not." He responded matter-of-factly.

My face flushed a coaxed shade of crimson, for I began to slip on my kimono across my chest, crisscrossing it with an expression of intent.

"Don't tell anyone." I warded him harshly, slapping the water-logged cloth against the bushes to relieve it of any excess liquids.

Onwards, I envisioned him making a rather acrimonious face, as if taken aback by my accusation.

"A test of trust I see, hmm? You have my word. It's not like I have anyone to fib to..." he trailed off, and I could sense the callous edge in his tone. Indeed, he had no one else to exactly confide in, especially alone in those woods with only our echoes as company.

"... I can't swim. I never wanted to learn as a child." I professed with a frightfully impudent expression plastered on my visage, which I attempted to fervently dissuade with the shake of my head.

"Many people cannot swim. But it's something mandatory in our line of work, to be at our most elite forms." He concluded with an artful glance around his shoulder to my site, although I immediately brushed him off by stating I was still in the process of getting changed. I was a slow changer.

"Well..." I wavered at his critical statement, causing myself to blink slowly, "time never lets you forget the most stirring things. It handicaps you from ever wanting to experience those same things again. Once..."

I simultaneously shook my head dry, slipping on my hakama before bidding the man a vigorous farewell. "Goodnight."

I coerced myself a while ago to never appear vulnerable before the man.

As the silence dwelled further, I could feel myself shifting under my thin layered over-kimono which provided only a shred of gathered warmth. Still cold, so cold. Thankfully it wasn't a lugubrious conversation which didn't appeal to much effort, although I was bewildered when the man began to speak of truth that didn't uphold any overbearing pride.

"You're right actually. Fear of many things handicaps us." He exhaled a sharp breath, resuming with his thoughts, "our lives are short and grim, yet they feel as if they take up a century of a generation. The best way..."

He trailed off, allowing me to latch on to every word he enunciated with validation.

"... is to bury them deep, and forget about them." He concluded.

Maybe it caught me off guard, that he held that type of empathy to his words; nonetheless, our homogenous nature was quite baffling even for my likes, scrunching my hands up within the empty pockets of my thin kimono-duvet.

"I'm scared of water." I finally confessed, allowing the scuffle of movement from behind the bushes to dominate my frame of thinking. Initially I was overwhelmed by the sensation Okita was hysterically cackling at the fear I held towards the begrudging water. Although, I was relieved by his restraint, managing to perceive his body keeping a distance away from me.

For once, he was listening to me, judging by the prolonged silence.

"When I was a child... I stumbled across my great uncle," I paused for a split second, rephrasing my words as I stared down at my hands, "no no, he wasn't my uncle. A family friend. But... I found him."

Beyond the infrastructure of the calm waves, there was an obscene madness that only I could sense; the water's lulling state that lifted itself back and forth in meticulous intervals, caused me to stiffen in agitation. Agitation, that something was beyond those depths which enraptured me with suffocating foreboding. Similar to when i was a child, stumbling across the limp corpse.

"Dead in the water. It was a strange occurrence for me at the time, as a child. I didn't know what caused me to continue actively avoiding any forms of deep, shallow, or unprecedented sources of water... but I felt myself building up fear. Fear. I feel anguish whenever near it." At that point I was truly musing in a self-deprecating time to which I chuckled facetiously despite the heavily mentally-implicated situation. That I was suffering from trauma that seemed to trigger whenever in the presence of forms of liquid, channelling that immense petrification like a Warlock's spell. I was spellbound, cursed even.

"I didn't think you'd understand..." I muttered under my callous breath, barking out a lone, straggly chuckle. It turned hoarse, waned, then difficult to subside. I was left at the edge of my words, with a mute Okita beside me in the other side of the hedges, whom kept his solemn tongue screwed shut.

I didn't really care anymore, for I was bound to appear like an open book to him. Something he could easily read. He mustered comprehended me to be insane. Hysterical.

So be it, I thought. Without another word, I adjusted my dried body and found it in my good will to burrow further into my kimono, limbs quaking as the threshold of the indomitable cold engulfed me that night.

\- next morning 

I awoke with a sputter and the blinding sunlight against my eyelids, for I was with recognition that I'd been ensnared in another horrendous nightmare that night. Quickly bustling away any more thoughts, I immediately brought my lightheaded body up to its stance, packing away and cladding myself in the kimono I used as a duvet-substitute. Glancing over my shoulder towards the destination behind the tangible hedge rows, I found Okita's body draped over a tree, in a dormant state. Riddled in his own world of dreams.

We were both suffering, though each of our demons were unlike the other.

I sighed, thus leading me to narrowing my doleful eyes at the ground. Life in Japan ensured me heartache as a pitiful foreigner trapped in a dream, and I thought long and hard over this depressing thought later that day as we frescaded over the hills and lamenting meadows.

\- later

The cornerstones in the routes we'd located with each guideline belonging to the archaic map, eventually brought us to a myriad of pilgrims pledging themselves to following our same route. Some looked dreary, congested as they trudged past us; often they would admire our bulky soldier-like strides into the thicket of the path, leading us to attentively avert our eyes away.

Leading us through each bustling street livid with avid strollers such as amiable children playing in the riverbanks down in the hills before, further boosted our morales as we glanced at each other. We were closing in on our destination, and the journey was draining us in an acrimonious competition that sought our primeval instincts. Therefore, we discontinued our petty disputes that would jab at each other, especially after Heisuke's dreary departure.

"Kyoto! The Imperial Palace - a favourable site." Okita barked as he quickened his pace, arm outstretched to motion beyond the dreary white sky and humid weather - a tall, grandiose and plastered building beyond the littered trees.

"..." demurely biting down my lip, whilst rattling my fingers alongside my hipside's blades, I felt as quiet as a miserable dormouse.

I allowed him to eagerly jog past the travellers to and fro the rowdy route, never bothering to notice the ruse he was stirring. Truth be told, a formidable and profuse disseminating anger began to grip ahold of me - shake me, quake me into a state of lulled, silenced wrath at Okita's ecstatic figure.

I was actually focused, sensing the bridge of my nose scrunch in scrutiny. Avoiding every pretty maids swarming out of the popular route, avoiding every elderly couple that spoke of ancient bonds.

Look at him. Look at the way he addresses each and every child meandering past. Look at that infectious smile plastered upon his handsome lips, and mane blowing in the wind. He's trying to forget, isn't he? Why he wasn't even in Kyoto in the first place - like he's trying to forget me. Everything that happened, even that vulnerable face he held when speaking in malaise whispers behind the Shōji screening of Kobe Ichi's door. I knew that he didn't mean to be that way - though I couldn't help but recall when he strangled me in the office, breaking our trust.

When we reached a secluded route that followed the checkpoints into Kyoto's infamous streets, I was trailing behind him with a deathly, seething glare. I felt like I was constantly laying my eyes on him, daggers that were brandished and refused to let go. Look at him. Look at his motherfucking face. I could imagine our lives slowly separating - Okita, finding himself disgusted by my love, would eventually reassign me to another faction away from him. Our lives would continue as if nothing happened.

"Stop..." it was a murmur that was simultaneously dismissed. Too small, too infinitesimal for anyone to even hear. I couldn't keep those raging thoughts at bay.

"Stop." I gritted my teeth, feeling my jaw click in ticks.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Time's running out.

"STOP! I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE!" I roared, immediately placing myself in a hefty loose stance that projected an air of hostility. We were alone, and that was how I liked it.

His bemusing body eventually screeched a falter in its steps, yet he didn't take the moment's initiative to face me. Was he thinking like me, feeling like time was running out? Robust, monotonous movements that completely contradicted me. Our whole relationship contradicted us; I was beginning to doubt my previous self's fantasy of love, only leaving the bitterness of my unrequited love I held towards the man. I was embarrassed with myself.

"Please don't speak about what happened in the Ichi household. I know you saw us... me. Stand down solider." It all felt like a demand, his low and unkept voice was hard for me to digest. After all, I hadn't eaten anything that day, nor was I planning on sinking my teeth into his warding words.

"'Stand down solider' - it's a phrase you like to condescend me with, isn't it?" I mimicked him in a foul, repugnant voice that was instantly depicted as erratic in my mind - everything was going by too fast, I felt my voice choking up, even as I continued.

"That's absurd Chiara, and enough...," He begun to enunciate in a stern voice that made me realise he was scolding me. How dare he?

"No... I can tell, you know?" I began to point at him with a jab of my index finger outstretched, circling him as if I were a predator of the ocean - a belligerent shark preying on another beast. My voice was rather light, and quizzical, forcing him to eat them.

"I can tell when you're giving me those flat, dead eyes. That hate me. That bore into me... judging me." I stammered, irregardless of my pupils strained on his back facing me.

"So stop... looking at me with those eyes... like I could disappear...," the tears already ran down my cheeks, and I felt my temples becoming strained, "and... you wouldn't care why..."

Before I broke down, I felt the glare of his tinted green eyes menacingly pierce into me. In a shaking, sputtering state, my feet were paused to a grinding halt. Conversely, my tears were already overwhelming my fervently flushed cheeks that spoke of neglect to my morning complexion paled in the bleary white sky.

I could never be as strong as you. This my sorrowful apology to you, Okita.

I can't keep up anymore...

"Don't speak like you know how I feel. Especially crying... and accusing me of something greater than physical injuries." Okita's axiomatic tone was husky, slurred and rhythmic in the eve's backdrop. Yet they were also elucidating with no malice nor intent of any violative agenda: he was Okita, and simply Okita.

I hastily brought upon the scabbard of my sword, the screeching melancholy of the sheathed sword's metal scraped against the material was driving me insane. However, I allowed it to ring, purposely enrapturing me in my dulled, tearing state. He was not capable of bringing forth any physical injuries other than destroying my heart, yet I was in the upper hand. I, had the capability of inflicting damage upon myself.

Then so be it.

\- seconds later

I couldn't bring myself to nourish in the revelling sounds the blade brought, which then imbued me to haplessly cock my head up at the commotion ahead of us. It appeared we'd been caught by a duo dressed in a fruitful cloak of baby cerulean blue, whom waved at us spontaneously to garner our attention. They did so, successfully.

Then they jogged towards us, baring wolffish grins. They interrogated Okita in a few seconds, then drew him into their embrace whilst casually flickering their eyes back at me. We exchanged curt nods. It was only Captain Harada Captain Nagakura, whom appeared to be assigned at the checkpoint posts that day, which was a cogent joy in our minds. Well, mine.

"Dear fucking men - by gosh, look at you! Souji - why are you covered head to toe in faeces, dirt, and an assortment of other strange soil! You too, divisional soldier!" Harada donned with a sharp mouth and endearing eyes was the first to comment on our behalf, followed by a rapid Nagakura interceding behind him.

"Yes yes, but Isami Kondou will he pleased to recognise your green eyes and witty sarcasm, Souji. Especially since we're about to move to Fudodo." Nagakura gruffly added with an impatient air, adding a quirked wink in my direction with a glance over his shoulder at my sullen state. He was still quite resentful over Kondou however, it appeared.

Furthermore, was the ensued talk of the Captains chatting about the time spent in those days. Okita was quite robotic and dismissive of rowdy men, waving their interest-accumulated eyes off as we passed the bridge leading into a tranquil avenue. Thus, they took the initiative to approach me with their heady eyes and towering figures, to which I shrugged in apathy.

"We just got separated from the rest a few days ago, Captains. At the Goryo-Eji incident." I calmly assured their livid likes with a docked brow. Harada was the first to back up beside me, deviating his amber eyes up towards the Kyoto sky.

"Really? I'm glad you weren't gone for too long - actually, you were deemed missing. Welll... we were just clearing up base and heading back from our patrols. It was a boring shift until you guys came along!" He clicked his tongue as if he recalled something, pouting his lips outwards, "I thought you were spirit away in the mountains, by some demonic trolls!"

He begun to lace an arm around my shoulder with a raucous bark of laughter, yet I immediately shook him off with a sour grimace. Men weren't particularly classed as good in my books.

As Nagakura casually laughed along, he paused for a second as Okita begun the haste-filled trek ahead of us. Nagakura seemed troubled as always. "Actually... i'm surprised Heisuke didn't show up with you. On that day with Itō's men - I could've sworn I heard reports of Soliders claiming a few Shinsengumi had interrupted the massacre - nothing about Heisuke though. I guess it was you guys."

At once I relived the memories of Heisuke and how he was about to be cut in half by the Shinsengumi guide, despite the fact Okita was rapid to dismiss his prying thoughts.

"We were taken hostage in the Ogaki Domain by some rouge Tosa. They're pretty damn bold." Okita spoke ruefully ahead of us, his amplified tone rigid with a skilful excuse. I felt his discreet eyes finding their way towards me, as we climbed the steps into the bustling high street. I didn't care for them.

What good could lies ever bring? My eyes were exceedingly accentuated with a dark, leering edge, erupting in the jovial atmosphere. My lips gradually parted, throat bobbing.

"I saved Heisuke, he's fine." I blurted, eyes casted intentionally downwards.

Suddenly, it was as if a tension that was unforeseen beforehand, had lifted at my proclamation. Nagakura and Harada paused in unison, gaping at me and attempting to figure out exactly what i'd just insinuated. They were clever men though, and weren't dazed for long. Nagakura overstepped his boundaries and gripped ahold of my shoulders vigorously, his magnificent blisteringly blue eyes peering into my own. I was afraid he was about to cry.

"Are you serious? Finally... some good news to raise my days..." he shook his head with the tears pricking his ducts, attempting to vainly hide them by shaking his head once more, facing me impatiently as if I were an oracle, "Where is he?"

"He's-" I was about to stammer.

"- that's enough, Solider." Okita gracefully brought himself behind Nagakura to evade the man's afflatus demeanour. It wasn't shared by Harada, whom was also in awe behind me.

"He's..." I blinked at my flabbergasted speech managing to slip out of my mouth, despite Okita's desperate eyes screaming at me to stop. Stop. "He left, before we embarked here."

Nagakura was not shedding any tears of happiness. Nor, was he in any state to double-take. Taken aback, he began to edge closer with a disconcerted, confused countenance, as I realised his hands were slipping closer to my collar.

"What?" His eyes were heavy as malice as he eventually towered above me, taunting me to nervously resume speaking. I felt myself tremor by his substantial height, although he wasn't that taller than me.

"Whilst trying to get back to Kyoto, Heisuke left because..." I trailed off with an uncertainty as to what I should say next, but I was jolted quickly by his hands clasping at my throat. I was frantically shouting by then, causing a scene in the middle of the street. "He wanted to rejoin with Itō and his company!"

Nagakura was bewildered, staring wildly at me as if I was speaking perfect gibberish. As if what I was saying wasn't making sense to him, or adding up in his mind. When I found my timid eyes raised to meet his glowering, flat blue eyes, they were not glistening like before. They were attempting to calculate why I was so abundant of information, but so ready to give him all this emotion easily.

"But... why didn't you tell him?" his voice was a soft growl, pleading me with all his might that I wasn't faking all of the information. Pleading that at the very least Heisuke had heeded my potential warning.

Ah...

"Why didn't you tell him, that we butchered, killed, murdered, fucked up every single member of that accursed group? That the blood is still being shed... it still looms in that alleyway. Why didn't you stop him?" How his voice rang like a prowling tiger, his face enshrouded in a heavy brow utterly opposing how he smiled affectionately at me before. That change left me dazed, unable to speak in a straight sentence.

I was the youngest daughter in a family of 5 sisters. Naturally, I was predominately known for my antics that involved getting away with trouble, that left my other siblings irate and seething with jealously. It wasn't fair to them - being congratulated on having temper tantrums, breaking vases, or smartly conjuring up pure lies. My parents dismissed it as my youthful energy, and I found even as a child I noticed that they quite envied me too for that trait.

I was never the type to be scolded completely, and that left me rather arrogant till my twenties. But now, staring right in the face the gloom fixated on someone else's face - blaming me for something worse than breaking vases, jumping around, speaking in lies.

When I found myself staring into Captain Nagakura's azure, deadened eyes, I recalled how Heisuke made me promise to inform them to get stronger. Until they could truly meet in battle, or in a pub, or in a war. However, only then had I slowly taken into consideration Nagakura and Heisuke's bonds solely invested on brotherly competition. And I, had festered and eradicated that ancient bond with my foolish meddling and interruption at the Massacre. I wanted to curl up and cry, because of my Cardinal Sin... it was all my fault.

Allowing someone to die. That sank further into me, and I knew I couldn't lie to his face. I knew, that if I fucked up my words, he wouldn't take a moment's hesitation to break my innocent face inwards with his mighty fist. I became calm, despite my shaking legs clattering from underneath me. Hitching my laboured breath, I took a glance up at Okita. Sorry Okita, i'm sorry for shouting at you.

"We were... afraid of telling him. He's young, and happy." I exhaled a pained breath, imagining Heisuke's face slowly graduate into a more horrified, callous expression as if we'd professed our sins of butchering his friends. He would never forgive us, it seemed. Never talk to us, never give us that winning smile and pep talk he was reknown for. That thought alone seemed bleak, and I wasn't sure if I could live without that.

Captain Harada took the initiative to break the intense draught accumulating between us, and I was quite baffled when Nagakura pushed him against the sturdy chest, causing the taller, supposedly stronger man to wobble backwards.

It seemed like he hadn't taken my answer into consideration nor found it something he would pity me for. Erupting into a scornful, fake laugh, he caught me flinching at the sight of his raised fist. I could tell he was sizing me up, and finding that in doing so, he found my existence pathetic, "AFRAID? GIVE ME A BREAK YOU WIMP OF A HUMAN. LOOK AT YOU - YOU'RE NO SOLDIER, OR EVEN A LOWLY MAN ENTITLED TO THE BUSHIDO CODE! I COULD MURDER YOU RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW FOR ABANDONING HIM."

As his voice rang in the sense crowds, it caused a hullabaloo that resulted in a populated circle ringing around us. In truth I found it embarrassing being scrutinised by those townspeople, the elderly gripping ahold of Nagakura's every word, the maidens and Geisha with fearful faces at his violent emotions spilling from his most vulnerable place - his heart. As quickly as a kestrel in flight, he shook my shoulders with a colossal strength, which led me to wondering if I was the real villain.

A selfish part of me had wistfully believed that I would be branded a hero for saving Heisuke. But there was so much more... so much more a Samurai has to do, to completely earn everyone's respect.

"BECAUSE OF YOU..." the venom of repugnance in his voice was solid, glaring at the ground with his muscles wound up, coiled and ready to strike. "He's marching off to his death... HIS DEATH! THE GORYO-EJI OF ITÔ'S COMPANY WERE MARKED AS TRAITORS - THEY WERE TASKED TO DIE!"

But he would've died anyway if I hadn't of intervened, I whispered gently to myself as if I were talking to an old beast within me. Instead, allowing the words to dissipate in the air of Kyoto - the city we were so adamant to reach, to guide my head upwards from its withered state. My lips were dry, eyes squinted though my sweat-profuse locks managed to hide the rest of my oily face. I gave him the most pitiful, pathetic, and weakest face I could conjure, for I had no strength, no excuses, no fancy gimmicks up my sleeve. I lost.

Perchance this was insolence that somehow angered the man's injured pride, for he brought his fist to crack against my jaw within seconds.

God. Oh god. It hurt so much. I felt my side winging and searing into a flurry of pain, the muscles going haywire as my head was contorted to the side in horror. Was I bleeding? Did he just break my jaw? Luckily enough, the divine power hadn't managed to lop my head completely off, but with embarrassment still my greatest foe, I dismally casted my crestfallen, now rheumy eyes down at the ground. It was dusty, dry, and dreadful to my attention. A bit like me, actually, I rashly chuckled inside.

Maybe it wasn't enough for him. It certainly wasn't enough for me - I think I deserved it, as masochistic as it deemed itself to be. He perhaps heard my thoughts and assumed my limp state was taunting him, for with another impact of rage, Nagakura proceeded to land a devastating jab into my stomach, as I felt it sunk and sunk into my abdomen. Then, he began his conquest of making me feel his pain by subsequently landing other blows across my side, legs, and face. Mostly the face, perhaps as it was bloody, pruned and emotionless.

"You cannot call yourself a man, yet still be compliant with being the cause of someone's death!"

"Take responsibility."

"Worthless Shinsengumi soldier..."

My hearing was impaired, I could barely sense the scuffle of feet as I dropped down onto the ground with wet, trickling gasps. At one moment his foot lingered close to batter my neck, therefore I was left to experience short outburst of spasms; conversely, I curled myself up into a ball to shyly defend myself from his heels, fists, or curses on my broken body. Contusions of discoloured patches littered my body, my lower lip split and blood was seeping down onto my teeth; i felt gaps in my body as if he'd created chasms in my lunges figure sprawled on the ground. A pathetic, small slug was what I was, and I didn't bother to moan or sob. I was limp, and my tears from crying over Okita were too dried up.

In previous instances I was angry. Angry at the world for leading me here, angry at my sister for neglecting me. Angry I was foreign. Angry at Shinsengumi, angry at the Shogunate for murdering Tomonosuke. Angry at Nagakura for beating me. Angry at Okita for not caring about me enough.

Slowly, that penned anger I felt began to distort until it gradually subsided at myself though... In reality I was angry at myself. I was the cause for all of this. What excuse was it, that simply because I was a woman, I could never experience this type of physical, yet brutally mental pain? I was only a child.

Nagakura was exhausted over my body, he didn't feel like sputtering any more nonsensical vulgarities over my half-conscious body. His trembling shoulder frame, bleeding knuckles that dropped crimson from the tips of his wound fists. Then, he proceeded to spittle over my body as it landed against my hunched shoulder, garnering a dead silence amongst us. I could sense Okita somewhere above me and even Harada, but they were probably more shocked at not only my acquiesce to being beaten, but the capability of Shinpachi Nagakura's wrath.

"Why... why are you insulting me with your silence?" He shook his almighty frame once more, and I contemplated whether he was sober, or finally relieving that pent up rage.

"Because... I need to take responsibility." I whimpered as I hacked up the blood from my bruised tongue.

His eyes, which were mortally smothering before, began to twitch. He caressed his temples with the ball of his palms, before proceeding to have a stunned feature dash across his face. He didn't feel like doing anymore damage, as wise as the thought felt. Perhaps the juices which caused the high-voltage wrath seemed to dissipate from the moment he realised that this was not the way of bringing back Heisuke. Maybe that pure instinct was enough for him to suddenly sheathe his short sword, much to my humiliation, before a figure interceded with a foot inches away from my face.

My eyelids were heavy with swollen contusions that eventually became large black eyes, yet the familiar sandals and white kimono grazing his ankles were a heaven's invitation. Not a ghostly visit from Hell's host. I could virtually taste the serenity in their brooding state, standing motionlessly in defiance towards the spontaneous Nagakura.

"Enough." Okita flatly stated.

"What do you want Souji? I'm punishing your solider for their lack of obedience."

"That's not punishment. That's torture." Okita returned calmly.

"Why do you care so much?" Nagakura was suspicious of his motives judging from his tone, as if it occurred to him that Okita was rather impassive with everything usually. This was different.

"Your eyes deceive you, Shinpachi. Look beyond the face you bruise. This woman doesn't this much torture, so I say, enough."

Okita was embellished with male solidarity, but as his footing was pivoted until his eyes were glued on my pathetic state, I truly hoped he wasn't sympathising with me. Another pair of eyes loomed down at me, before I began to sputter. He'd just revealed I was a girl.

Although Nagakura was appalled, evident by the drainage of pigment on his skin, I resumed to stagger up to my feet with countless failures. But I was ignorant to the fact the whole crowd, Harada with his mouth agape at my bloody figure, Nagakura trembling with his widened eyes hysterically staring at his open hands, and Okita with a sullen expression, reaching out to aid my walk back to the Shinsengumi in hesitation.

Without a word, I carelessly batted his hand away with effort strained on my exhausted limbs. The blood never seemed to cease from pouring out of my nostrils no matter how hard I snivelled it away, or the blood extending from my gashes from where cuts had been created across my exposed collarbone. I was fine, I attempted to confine myself to only my sole self-help, never regarding Okita's aid as a friendly gesture. I was fine.

I parted the sea of gawking pedestrians whom were attentive and punctual to the interactions. Fortunately they had instinctively ducked to the side and created a makeshift line for me to retreat out of, even as my laborious pants proved to make every townsperson riddled with uncomfortableness. At the time, I agreed with their shift wariness, for it came to my knowledge that Nagakura was bleakly staring at the dried blotches of blood staining his tanned hands, which belonged to me.

\- 14 minutes later 

My sudden intrusion on the Shinsengumi HQ set about a flurry of perplexing faces, although I exhaled my held breath with relief when Kondou Isami spotted my figure staring dumbfounded into the entrance of the compound. Accompanied by superior officials, he resorted to handing me an empathising grimace at my bloody, tattered face and clothes left without any supervision. I limped towards him, acknowledging his accomplices taking a step back with fearful countenances.

"G-Good evening, Commander. I'd like to register back into the Shinsengumi Police Force and give you my most sincere apologises for my absence. Forgive me." I sputtered with a wad of blood dribbling down my jaw, for I was inclined to bow. In the process however, he managed to stop me with his arms reaching my shoulders.

"Don't strain yourself. You look as if you've been mauled by a bear." He handed me a tight smile that I returned with a tentative look, unsure if I could even lift my facial muscles to bestow him a smile. I felt like breaking down right then into his arms, hoping he would usher me like a father into his loving embrace.

I must've gained complete sympathy from Kondou by the time we were reported to head into the Common Room situated in the quarters of the Nishi-Honganji temple. At the time i'd interrupted his conference walk with a few officials, yet he was more than compliant with issuing a quick meeting that included both myself and Okita, Toshizo Hijikata the Vice Commander, and Intelligence Officer such as the diligent Shimada Kai.

We were severely reprimanded by Toshizo Hijikata, whom repeated it was a childish feat to create more hassle, especially after the late Sannan Keisuke's passing. At this, Okita's mulling gaze was immediately placed in the ground, tightening his wounded fists. However, Kondou proceeded to pardon our actions as we informed we'd merely followed the orders that Heisuke was to be kept alongside the Shinsengumi even as a Goryo-Eji Guard, meaning it was good will that we'd resorted to protecting the fellow against foe. Remarkable bravery, was what he commented on our behalf.

Give be a break you wimp of a human. You abandoned Heisuke. - those words enunciated by Shinpachi Nagakura resonated in my dazed mind, my dull eyes deadpanned as they stared off into the wall behind Kondou as he spoke.

I believe our sight was a relief to Kondou, whom began chatting delightedly at a weary Okita. As a result of his sheer unrestrained happiness marked by the sight of his beloved Kenjutsu Instructor Safe and sound, he therefore wrapped up the conference by issuing a set of demands - our weaponry, licences and means of pleasure were confiscated. Curfew and wages were cut short too in the aftermath, in respect to the Code we followed.

We bowed in unison by the favourable orders that weren't too severe, before being ushered out by an impatient Hijikata.

\- hours later, nightfall

Excused from my duties, I was left to tend to my injuries. However, as I sat by the railing which led into the courtyard, I didn't feel particularly like healing myself. So, with only a basin of heated lukewarm water by my hip, and on the other side was my set of weapons dished out, I begun to fixate on Shiki Yuudai ahead of me, whom was speaking in tongues I couldn't apprehend.

"What did you say?" I obliviously blinked at him, mouth ajar with a hardened expression in an attempt to figure out what he as uttering.

"I said," he emphasised greatly with an impatient sigh, "we're moving to Fudodo Village soon on higher orders, and I've already crated and shipped most of your possessions. Be thankful."

I groaned a form of gratitude that appeased him, causing him to make a face. Perhaps the fact I was a woman annoyed him, for he felt as if he wasn't obliged to scold me for my lazy behaviour.

Then, he paused to quirk a groomed eyebrow, lips pursed together, "you must've hit your head on something. You're always zoning out."

Shiki's features were refreshing ; his presentation that included his freshly laundered kimono and leggings were something pleasant to the eyes that Winter evening, especially illuminated by the lanterns basking in the endless corridors. He held a grief-stricken tone that didn't match his youth, alongside his tousled light blonde hair pinned to the side of his shoulder. He was 18. Artfully, his sharp articulate orbs never missed anything, including me dismally muttering that at least I came back in one piece.

"Did Nagakura Captain truly give you those injuries?" I nodded to confirm his quizzical nature, before wondering with a frown if I was proud. Shiki let out a prolonged whistle. "Astounding... the news is buzzing everywhere. Everyone, including young girls, are giving you care packages by your door."

I contemplated whether women were a good omen on my life or not. In retort to my open question, Shiki scrunched up his face, "don't joke like that. You've changed. You resemble a brute now."

"Eesh, my injuries hurt a lot." I returned to attempt to digress from the intense subject.

"Well, didn't you go to a medic? And where were you, all those days?" He never seemed to stop pursuing me with his sharp questions.

I paused, deflating my cheeks with a sputter, "those questions might have to wait. I've had a good break but," I hoisted myself up to my feet with exerted effort dragging my calves down, rubbing my side tediously, "I need to prepare to find Heisuke."

Shiki immediately halted me in my wake, nabbing my elbow and squeezing it firmly. I hissed and writhed under his grip, shooting him a glare.

"What was that for?" I cried.

"You won't follow after him, and this proves my point. You're in need of a medic or physician." He affirmed with a steady leer in his amber eyes, although I could grasp at where he was coming from.

I'd befriended Shiki in the early days of his initial recruitment, a few Winters ago. Firstly we hadn't bonded well especially with his previous bully Akifumi Sai and I, causing him to slowly outcast himself from our faction - Okita's faction. However, on one ostracising occasion he found himself threatening to leave and consequently commit seppuku, which I managed to revert by apologising and listen to his side of the story. I revealed I was a girl in the process, stating I was undercover as a boy in the meantime. I hadn't stated a reason because I was still unsure of my purpose.

But he professed he was a Village-hailing Samurai whom was proud of his career. It was, his dream to succeed and pass on the Bushidō style down his predecessors, thus leading him to becoming a smart, able member of Okita's higher ranks.

Immersed in my own thoughts and eventually lowered myself back on my cold perch beside the wooden railing, pondering on Shiki's motives. Since our older days, he adopted a motherly aspect that never ceased to nag me, which could've stemmed from his worry of my womanly sake. This, which was often a nuisance yet helped our stable friendship, was soon accentuated by his words.

"Look, I mean, isn't it too early? And you... you're badly hurt. I can't allow anything to happen again - why should you look for Heisuke Toudou when you were simply respecting the wishes of him to leave!" He announced to which I couldn't help but agree reluctantly.

I told him from then, the entire story, including the fact I forgot to tell Heisuke about the Massacre - or rather, I intentionally refrained from handing him that info. It felt good confiding in Shiki.

"Shiki... This feels kinda embarrassing to say because i'm a girl saying this to a guy but..." I began listening to the coo of winter birds, and wondered if they were peering in. "Sometimes to face the pain head on is okay. You can get back up again and become stronger. Whining about it will only make you more insecure and doubtful of your morals and decisions."

I felt like chuckling, but when I envisioned Heisuke's pained face paling in horror to his demise, I only left a crude, petrified grimace on my face. Then, I shook it off, plastering a festered smile.

"After coming this far, I don't think I want to keep doubting what I'm doing anymore..." I caved my chest inwards with my swollen palm jabbing a soft spot on my chest. Where my heart was, unscathed by Nagakura's inflicted blows. It began to tighten up, as I concluded my thoughts, "it hurts..."

I was alluded by Shiki's wrath overcoming his features, but continued to hand him a firm determination. Then, he caved in. He shook his head eventually as if to soothed himself, as demoted as a shrewd vole.

"So you really want to go, huh?" He winced.

"Yes, I can't back down now." I returned diligently.

"And I can't ask you why you want to retrieve him? Honestly?"

"... No. You just need to know I'm keeping a promise."

"Have you informed Kondou about your decision?"

"No, he wants to restrict us by keeping curfew and confiscating our licences. I'd better keep quiet and slip out."

"How long will you take? You must return before we head out to Fudodo in a week. Or meet us on the way, Chiara." He handed me a grave expression, rephrasing his words to meet my strangled ambition.

I let out a noise, eyes widened as hereafter there was an elongated pause. The wind groaned in exhaustion, as if carrying out burdens and already on the journey to Fudodo. In an alien voice similar to my own, I lifted my jaw to clench it desperately, obscuring my eyes to the left.

"Yes."

\- midnight, Shinsengumi HQ

A week was all I had.

I was amiably told to keep to my chambers that night, although I responded with a curt bow and thanked the people whom handed me sympathising looks. I wasn't sure if Nagakura was completely popular with his inmates or the rest of the Squadron, yet as I returned from the latrine that night, I was mortal stunned by women clad in kimono, slipped out of the location situated by my door, giggling softly with their hands over their mouths to silence their plight.

Someone had airily commented my bloody, bruised state fetched quite a fancy amongst the women of that area. They adored a rogue. I scowled heavily, for love wasn't in my good books.

How the hell had they just come in? I was extremely in a contemplative mood regarding the security of HQ, and in a sour mood as the water i'd bathed myself in at the insensitive was surprisingly chilled. I abhorred it, therefore yearning Old Lady Shizuka's darling Hot Spring Estate from all those days ago. Things seemed far away.

No, I shook my wet head with beads of water tricking down my exposed nape. I hadn't the chance to be nostalgic and redolent of a friable past, for I was obliged to rectify a misdeed. Allowing Heisuke to go. My padded bare feet reached my door, pausing hesitantly to unravel the gifts bestowed by the fair maidens in bound colourful assorted cloth. In the cerulean package, was a tantō in its sheath. In the magenta package was new sandals, which I was more than pleased to slap onto my naked soles.

Fumbling into my room despite the pitch black raven night, I was greeted with a single lantern in my room. Thankful, it wasn't the same room as i'd lived in the Yagi, which also hours the late Tomonosuke Ichi. However, it still shared secrets such as his notorious blade passed down to my hands, alongside the mystifying Vial containing Ochimizu in the narrow fissure between the wall and the wardrobe beside me.

I collected all these reminiscent objects that triggered a past long forgotten. Dressing myself in clean onyx kimono that drapes down to my mid-calves, I proceeded to slip on reasonable white baggy tobi trousers that reached my ankles.

I was heading off tonight, therefore the bare necessities were fundamental for a successful mission; Tomonosuke's blade (alongside the gifted tantō knife), a water ring bottle attached to my waist with a slinky cord, extra cartridges of snacks such as canisters of dagashi and dried rice to be placed into my string bag towed to my bag.

I slipped the vial into my pocket for safekeeping, then wounded the sword against my back. It was heavier due to my evident injuries hiding my face, and the soak at the Onsen only made it even redder. Furthermore, it was the ripe time of my departure into the night - I was hopeful with enough luck that I wouldn't be identified.

Creeping out of my room (blowing out the lantern, without a trace of sound), I was just about to reach the end of the hallway and turn a sharp right into the courtyard, when a delirious voice hissed at me from the bottom of the stairs.

"Chiara - I knew you were too silent at the conference. You're scheming something, aren't you?" The voice was engraved with a facetious sulkiness that immediately brought me to turn my heavy body.

Okita was dressed in a smart kimono unlike his ragged sleeping robes from before. Tobi trousers, neat undergarments and smooth kimono tied to the waist by a chiffon sash. He was normal again, but those eyes seemed to reflect something else - instinctive curiosity - which caused me to double back in surprise.

"Sh. I'm not obliged to tell you anything." I grovelled petulantly, clambering down the stairs with a creak elicited when my heavy baggage began to sway. I was almost fluttered off my feet.

"Uh huh. You're going to Heisuke aren't you? To find him." He was directly bullseye, and I was annoyed at him because of his sharp intellect. Or maybe it was plainly obvious.

"Yes. Go snitch on me if you want. You have an annoying tendency to show up wherever I am anyway." I hissed with a snivel.

"Why do you think I bothered to bring my jacket on this journey, you idiot?" He sported a devilish smirk that complimented his wolf-like jade eyes, lifting his shoulder upwards to reveal a string lattice-crossed bag similar to my own. Also, his dark navy jacket that reached his hips.

My mouth was shaped to an "O" furiously, unable to comprehend his motives.

"Why do you have that?" I pointed at both his objects.

"Why do you think I have that?" His tone felt like he was acting condescending towards a child, so I mimicked him with an agitated countenance.

"Wait. You want to... come with me?"

"No, you're coming with me. You're reckless but smart. You could help me fish out Heisuke from his deadly waters."

"But it's my mission." I frowned.

"And i'm the leader." He added with a forlorn frown as we began sizing each other up.

Suddenly, I felt myself mischievously swayed, for I began to shove him aside and stride out of the open gates into the bustling city streets. I gestured for him over my shoulder to follow along gingerly.

So be it, Okita Souji.


	7. 7 Prolonged Silences

"The Indolence Arc - Stave Three."

3rd P.O.V

Okita Souji could recall every minuscule detail from the grotesque carnage that he was forced to watch that day. If only he brought himself to close his eyes, yet he would've been inclined to keep them half-closed. For, his attention would always be secluded on the limp figure on the floor, experiencing the mass brutish force of a belligerent Shinpachi Nagakura.

Deftly, he could glimpse at her split lower lip which revealed a stream of deep shaded blood dance down her mouth, and below her jawline. In those seconds Okita felt horror for her inexplicably courageous efforts to keep the tyrannical Samurai satisfied by the beatings, yet it was slowly unravelling until he felt her acts were only recklessly foolish. She was foolish, and it completely contrasted her deadened, calm eyes.

"Take responsibility!" Okita heard Nagakura grunt as he landed his foot into her sloped neck, cracking it before it began to contort into an alien angle.

She began to squirm, curling herself up into a ball to lessen the agony of the bruises scattered across her body. As quick as a shy dormouse she forced her blurry dark eyes shut, as if to block out the rest of the world staring at her pathetic body crumpled across the ground.

A part of Okita felt as if he was inclined to step in. But there was a catch. Did he have the right to do so? The more he stood in rapt awe, the more he felt an emotion linger within him; he bit his lower lip in response, for the emotion would only bring a downpour of other unreasonable actions. He had to stay calm and reserved, prove to everyone - including himself - that he was able to become stoical in dire times. Even, as a brute, yet crafty man, like Nagakura was losing his temper on the woman.

She wasn't a woman. No normal woman would be so agonisingly at ease to allow such bone-crackling pain wash their body until only the dull ringing in their ears would eventually lead them into total silence like Chiara seemed. Then again, she wasn't a man. No normal, respectable man would keep their tongue screwed into their mouth as they would watch their dignity slowly evaporate until the consequences would torture them. Okita couldn't imagine himself ever in that kind of situation. If she wasn't any of these, what was she?

Alas... Okita could imagine himself in that kind of situation. That, was the exact reason why he kept his fists solemnly balled in white, tensed frames. He was in that type of situation long ago, when the restrictions of Kyoto society wouldn't of been an issue for him. A young bundle of optimism, perhaps he pondered if younger Souji would've intervened on the beatings.

As he flickered his eyes away in aversion to the carnage laid ahead, he eventually found himself sickened. Raw, utter convulsion. Inside, there was a real reason, more pathetic than Chiara's iron will, more pathetic than his hatred for her stupid passionate resolve, more pathetic than Okita's passive eyes that reached beyond Harada's widened orbs, beyond the streets that gaped in horror, beyond the cries of children dashing down alleyways.

The reason being, was that he couldn't find himself particularly reaching out to stop the mess, for he too was in that situation long ago.

That day, on a prosperous occasion, no one had reached out to Okita to usher him in a soft manner, cradling his weary head and heavy eyes. He yearned for it, but it never came. His dearest sister had abandoned him on the terms he would be trained under Kondou Isami's wing, but that didn't mean that he was protected under the man's compassionate nobility. No, Okita was tormented until his green eyes could never shimmer in the same way that content grass would. A dojo would always thrive with competitors, or other men whom challenged you with heated eyes. Life, was always teeming with accursed situations that you could never truly recover from.

So what if he helped her? There wouldn't be a lesson for her to learn then. She would be completely in the shelter of men, which was something Okita despised. However, if he even offered her a chance of sanctuary, it would come at a price. A price he wasn't able to pay.

In those moments, a small part of Okita that wasn't too hostile, prayed that Chiara could jump back to her feet like she usually would, and brush off her kneecaps to face the cruelty of the world.

\- a day after Okita and Chiara's departure

1st P.O.V

It wasn't an extravagant surprise that we managed to follow along the reciprocated route that we trudged along only a few days ago, despite the fact we definitely wished otherwise. For, it was truth that the same route would eventually lead to the fateful kismet of the river that we waded across. That wasn't a good memory.

In any case we covered enough distance in half a day, for it was ensured by our lack of breaks and more experience trekking in the wilderness; it was on one of these particular occasions that Okita was obliged to speak, as we trudged in knee-deep marsh beside a gaping valley of keening rice paddies.

"We might truly have our stomachs gutted if we return from this. Or maybe our legs severed," Okita dismally remarked as he was in a heavy trail of thought, evident by his muteness that morning. He was in a glum mood as usual, I noted. That could've been complimented to the fact he resorted to using my gifted Tantō knife as his sole weapon, since his other swords were confiscated like my own. The weight was off our hips, too.

"Luckily I made a letter addressed to the Commander so he may have some respectful insight on our actions!" I responded with a crude snicker, revealing a ghostly white pamphlet littered with my pathetic doodles from my chest pocket.

He didn't even bother to glance.

"Aha, what an interesting contraption, Chiara. Posted to Kondou Isami, right?" He questioned as he slowed his pace until matching my strides, but I began to hand him a skeptical look. What was he trying to say?

"Yes. I'm illiterate that's for sure, but these drawings will surely reach out to the kindness in his heart!" I cried, scooting at a respectable distance away from Okita's narrowed eyes with a clatter of my equipment.

"Chiara..." he began to say in an exasperated voice.

"What?" I spoke.

"You should've left that at your door or maybe place it by Kondou's office. Now you can only admire your silly drawings and their uselessness." He shook his head wearily as if he were a begrudging long-suffering companion of mine, but I felt that type of friendship to be pointless.

Silent, I seethed at him with thinned slit-like eyes. He began to act a different way around me that wasn't as vitriolic or sardonic as he used to be, yet his humour was bleak as the sun hanging over us. I wasn't used to such a change. Moreover, as we turned into a forest that was compact with densely thriving woodland creatures warbling in the distance, I had to contemplate on his real intentions.

Vehemently shaking my head, I retracted my arm back into my chest pocket to marvel at my stupidity, whilst placing the letter back into its place.

"Okita, why must you be nice to me? To actually... Talk to me, as in." I inquired with incisive curiosity, yet as he paused to flicker his deadpanned eyes in my direction, I waved at him with a frantic nervousness, "also, what is your true intentions about rescuing Heisuke?"

"Which question do you urgently need answering?" He stopped as he stood over a deforested tree stump, pausing to hobble around it.

"... The latter. About Heisuke." I proceeded to also hobble around the tree, as we began to walk at an arm-length's distance between each other. It was much more important to care about Heisuke than think about my own welfare.

"Well," he seemed stumped for a second, before calling from over his shoulder like an exquisite scholar, "Nagakura... heavily implied to you that Heisuke was considered good in the Shinsengumi's books, right?"

I winced when the prune-like bruise reaching from my collarbone to my nape began to throb, meekly stroking it with lowered eyes. "Yes." I replied.

"Well he wasn't wrong. Before the events that led to their... irreversible fate, Kondou assigned - no, he begged, that Heisuke would be spared. Even as we trekked in that dark night aware of the future blood on our hands, we weren't permitted to lay a hand on Heisuke." He hollered over his shoulder as he scaled a drop down into the valley with tipsy footing. I felt a rush of adrenaline causing me to buckle at the sight of the gorge, but eventually followed on after whilst listening on.

"He has a soft spot for young, impressionable men with potential. I could say that's how you describe our Commander." Okita gestured me to clamber down the gorge, as he was at the bottom of the flight of steep stairs.

"You must really..." I groaned as I hoisted my equipment over my shoulder, sighing at the wounds immeasurably hurting me, "be close with Kondou. You guys are always together."

"He's my adoptive older brother in a sense. We've known each other for a while..." I was stunned by the amount of information Okita was so ready to deliver, leading me to pursue him as we began to stagger across the bottom of the valley.

"So, you want to carry on his wishes and see Heisuke safe?" I attempted to figure out what relations he felt he had towards Heisuke, especially as I'd conversed with the youngster about the topic beforehand.

"Well..." he frowned with a pained face as he recouped his thoughts, which took awhile. That was the way Okita would speak, gaining amassed information and speaking with careful integrity to the topic, "you were right about Heisuke wanting to go voluntarily after Itō. You were there after all, so I don't see why you're trying to fit with Shinpachi's narrowed opinion that he's in need of rescuing. We're merely trailing after the boy and persuading him."

"Yeah but... Nagakura Captain must be right. They're best friends after all. Surely he means well, since Heisuke is being strange by wanting to follow after Itō..." I struggled with the concepts piled in front of me metaphorically, but it appeared Okita wasn't having that as an excuse. He stood in front of me, peering at me with a strange expression I couldn't quite put my finger on. Enigmatic.

"Just because they class each other as friends, doesn't mean he really knows what's going inside Heisuke's head. He was just as confused as us, when the boy announced he wanted to leave. He's probably still scratching his temple and crying, wondering why Heisuke decided to leave. No one, not even family can truly understand a person's motives." Responded Okita ruefully, as it he were warding off demons or Yōkai from the district we stretched across.

Talkative Okita was somewhat noble and had a wise perspective to the situation ahead. But he was also hypocritical, and it led me to flirting my eyes back at him. It was a double edged sword.

"Like the way I'll never understand why you hurt me with your harshness?" I shot back in a curt manner, and I felt rather guilty for prodding at his elusive demeanour. However, I required answers beyond his motives, and perhaps I could stretch two questions into one.

"I keep telling you that's a childish opinion you hold. It's hard to express..." he began to explain, but implanted a forced, rigid and abrupt silence with a grinding halt.

"Hard to what?" I couldn't fathom what he was insinuating, due to my preoccupied thoughts stemming from what he'd told me beforehand regarding Nagakura and Heisuke's relationship.

"Nothing." He rapidly affirmed me with a stern shake of his head, before breaking into a weak fit of frenzied coughs. I had to restrain myself from pursuing the disease-riddled man, out of mustered respect.

Okita was still ill. Tuberculosis crept at his crumbling lungs. I'd realised this a few years back, when I stumbled across him pleading with his physician to permit him to continue with Shinsengumi duties. Nonetheless he would perverse and survive, despite the life expectancy forthcoming something dreadful. His death. Much to my surprise he wasn't willing to cave in to that fate gripping him by the shoulders and screaming its authority, for he was optimistic and bared a weak smirk.

Later that day, in the eve a day after our departure, we stumbled across a village at the end of the woodlands we resided amongst. We were quick to jump the gun, since our objectives differed from our previous one of laying low; we didn't have any pursuers of hunters at our ankles such as the Tosa, when our simple target was seeking a fellow whom used to band alongside us. Was Heisuke in this village?

It was a quaint site; distributed settlements encased with luscious trees and forestry amongst it. There in the distance despite the golden sun merging with the horizon to bestow a lovely shade of rosy peach, was a looming mountainside covered with dense boulders that threatened to shake from its foundations. The sight was a grim one, that would strike fear in the cores of Claustrophobic kinsmen.

Reaching the cobblestone streets that were littered with only tiny amounts of faces passing by, it took our greatest lengths of pride to begin questioning them on the behalf of a missing Heisuke's sake. Nothing. Each individual spoke of grandiloquence to ease our suffering, although in the end they professed they hadn't glimpsed nor seen a young man in his ripe 20's clad with long brown hair, and immersing bejewelled blue eyes. We thanked them profusely, before allowing the shaken up strangers to make their way.

"They all look tense." Commented Okita on one occasion, seated on a bench between two stores. Both were vacant of any customers and seemed the owners were also busy that evening, despite the clearly open doors.

"Maybe we scare them. We're government officials licensed to kill." I responded as I raked my fingers through my hair; silting my slender fingers through the chopped locks was a habit of mine whenever stressed.

"Haha. Yeah..." Okita let out a stiff laugh, cocking his head back to stare sullenly at the contents of the sky.

It was a dreary evening that was threatening to spill into night already. Each drifting cumulus seemed to depict an image of foretold events yet they were never in our comprehension. The sun had already sought refuge behind the horizon to lighten up the day of other people on the far corner of the Earth. Everything seemed too dull to even think of. I admit I was becoming rather strained for time, wondering of wherever we should stay for the night, or continue to set about on foot.

"Okita. Let's go to that open ryokan. It looks like it's open to travellers and monks." I cocked my head back at the man seated on the wooden bench to head towards the open premises on the street adjacent to our sites.

"Sure, seems like a waste to wait for the rain," he made a face before trailing behind me, already dipping his shoulders down towards the open awning of the inn.

Inside, the warmth of the beckoning heating of the residence was quite a tempting sensation. Initially we were stumped by the abundance of shoes littered on the racks beside the entrance of the open door, yet with another gander indoors of the reception area, it appeared that there were only two present figures looming in the corridor.

The walls were a glistening yellow, a pleasant scent of ginger seemed to also waft to our nostrils; carefully we preserved these homely pieces of nostalgia as we lifted off the sandals from our grime-clad socks, already stained a sooty brown. I gingerly touched the doorway to excuse my presence, bowing as I waited at the reception's till counter with an elbow slanted against the wall. A smooth, varnished mahogany that held my captivation, until I frowned at the emptiness of the ryokan. Where were the owners?

The figures ushered in the hallway by the left seemed to notice our unsoundly lack of comfortability towards the further lack of welcoming. One, dressed in a mourning gown of black, handed me a grave expression accentuated by her mage bun and increased wrinkles at my youthful sight.

"Hi Miss, have you uh, any vacancies?" I remarked with a stutter.

"The owner isn't here boy, and not for a while." She warned me with heeding leer in her eyes, as apathetic as a temperamental cat.

"Oh. Well I'm sure me and my accomplice can wait, it's fine-" I replied with an forced timid smile, but that was immediately wiped off my face when the elderly woman's shorter, more stumpier woman, dressed in grey matching robes, piped in.

"Go home kid, they're dead." The flat tone of her accomplice caused a shiver to cascade down my spine, as I realised in those seconds that there was something wrong in the manner of addressing the dead. As if, they'd both suddenly and unexpectedly died.

"Isn't there any other hostels?" I became unnerved, and slowly brought my elbow away from the wall.

"Not exactly. The population's decreased nowadays. It's not like anyone cares anyway," the elderly woman shrugged, before resuming in a low voice to converse with her uninterested companion.

I glanced back at Okita, whom was fitted with a tight expression by the doorway. We shared an animosity that was handed to us by the locals, which prior wasn't exactly felt until now; our objective was to find Heisuke, and when it didn't work, we resorted to finding an inn of a kind to rest our weary heads. Maybe that would've of been felt however, as we were completely wide awake.

"So... has this town been in some kind of drought?" I attempted to garner their attention by leaning forward, as there had to be a solution to the issue at hand; it was my responsibility, after all.

The elderly woman began to cackle, as if what i'd suggested was utterly stupid and profound to her knowledge. She didn't turn around, but began to address us articulately.

"Even worse." She remarked plainly with her eyes dramatically wide.

"... Famine?" I cocked a brow, slivering my tongue over my teeth for some confound unknown reason.

"No no young man, keep going!" It became a rather cruel game between us, constantly offering suggestions and them leading us with sardonic and humourless taunts.

"What is it then, that's caused the death of the inn owners suddenly?" Okita, whom was befitted with an air of impatience, snapped with imprudence.

Artfully, the elderly woman tottered around the counter and stood ahead of us, her eyes filled with a lurking dread that reached beyond her husky voice. As if, nothing mattered, not even her unprecedented sight in that particular hallway, greeted by particular soldiers, and in a particular inn.

"A red ogre." She whispered carefully ensuring each syllable was enunciated, analysing our hardened expressions exchanged.

It was absurd. The more I stared at the women, the more the words didn't make sense, and it left me pondering on the extent of her elucidation.

"That's bullshit. Are you playing games with us? We're Shogun men. Don't beat around the bush and tell us what's the problem." I snarled when I begun to asses the situation; perhaps we were in an influx of drugs and they were attempting to dismiss the deaths of the people around them whom meddled with their plans. Already, I felt myself stinging in irritancy.

"Oh... Government men..." finally, her voice became strained by her quivered Cupid's bow pressed down onto her frail lower lip, revealing her diluted eyes watery from previous bouts of crying. Her rosy cheeks became shadowed when she began to grip ahold of my chest, hammering desperately with searching eyes. "Have you seen my Yahiko? My darling precious boy? He's lost... he's been lost for a week. I cannot bear it any longer! Put me out of my misery Shogunate men - like you do with our taxes! Please use them to fund a search team! Please!"

Her wails were encased with despair, entangling her slender fingers in my kimono as she began to pound on my chest. Eventually, she broke down into tears, choked sobs that gained the pity of her accomplice eyeing her with soft eyes. Her cold exterior shrunk, revealing a more enervated woman begotten with grief.

"I'm sorry ma'am... please unhand me." I couldn't create eye contact, thus leading my tone to sound more harsher than it deemed itself to feel.

"He's... He's got brown scruffy hair, and a big smile... he makes me so proud, my son, my son... have you seen him?" She pleaded with me, and I couldn't help but feel as if i'd felt his maternal voice before; was it with Aiko and her child? Tomonosuke?

"No... I haven't," I quivered gently I response; perhaps I was attempting to appease her wails, as eventually her sobs died down. Her accomplice, handing me a stern nod, eventually embraced the woman towards her chest to muffle her cries.

"You... You come in here with those arrogant faces of yours asking for a place to stay... you could never truly understand how I feel... my son... oh how I miss him... he was spirited away by that bastard red ogre at the side of the mountain a week ago," weeped the elderly woman. I could almost feel a shift in the atmosphere, despite all attempts to reserve our emotions. There was nothing we could possibly do, anyway.

"Shh, there there," the woman garbed in grey kimono patted her in a good natured manner on the back, proceeding to raise her button eyes back up at our grimaces, "but she's right. She isn't some crazy fucked up woman. There really is a demonic creature snatching away our livestock, children and men and women alike. Go check for yourself in the caverns of Kogoe."

Kogoe - Whisper. The firm determination in the woman's eyes, that completely dismissed our doubts, led us to slap back our sandals, apologise for our intrusion, and eventually trudge out into the drizzling rain that fell upon the village.

I was fully apperceiving the ideas that were bubbling within me, as we stood outside the shelter of a vacant store's awning away from the rain's mighty grips. Was it possible that Heisuke also followed down this route, got lost, and spirited away?

No, nonsense. The woman was clearly delirious as presumed by her watery eyes and quaking frame. She couldn't possibly be telling the truth. I slid my eyes back up at Okita, whom had kept quiet the entire time, as I proceeded to comment.

"Okita, do you think that woman was..?" There wasn't room in my voice to complete the sentence.

"Yes. There's no doubt about it. It's so empty and tense here, it was like they wanted, and prayed for us to be next." His chilling voice ran till it struck bone, before I averted my eyes in distinguished astonishment. Not him, too?

"Red ogre... it's like... The way Kobe was possessed. Otherworldly things." I shook my head gravely, revisiting the Ichi household in my mind. He was clearly possessed by a maniacal spirit, or other conscience that led him to not only take upon my sword, but also use an invisible force to repel me across the room. It was insane. This was all a gimmick in my mind, and I refrained from standing down.

"Chiara, I forbid you from doing anything brash." He swiftly hunted me down, preventing me from keeping quiet. He must've realised i'd already made up my mind on the matter.

I fiddled with the ropes of my string back strewn over my shoulder, gazing up at him with a look of fierce dominance. "I want to see for myself if Heisuke is there or not. There's no such thing as red ogres eating anyone or snatching anything. It would've showed up on the radar of the government."

"Yeah, but this is something else. We humans don't interfere with that kind of foreplay."

"What? What's with that voice of yours? 'Human'? Don't make me laugh. There's no such thing as something beyond." I snorted with a ridicule in my tone's edge.

He furrowed his brow, to begin to glance down at me, as if I were a mere bug challenging him. "Don't pursue the topic any further Chiara, this is an order."

I scoffed, to slowly pivot on my heel to face him. There clearly wasn't something I was being told, nor could I simply... apprehend the situation. It was absurd. The more I thought about it, the more utterly ludicrous the whole situation regarding Okita's defensive nature seemed bizarre. I wasn't sure if it was a Japanese thing - I knew plenty of men whom weren't superstitious like Okita seemed.

"You, of all people, are superstitious? Is this because of that magic juice Ochimizu? No, I forbid this." I emphasised my tone, glancing up at the sky beyond the layer of thickly grey clouds hovering above us. Something was missing amongst our passive aggressive remarks to one and another, until Okita managed to slip in a hesitant comment.

"Chiara, the more I think about it... the more I feel like this mission has no point." He was currently glazing his eyes over the dreary splotches of rain accumulating in the drainage, his expression somewhat scrunched as he pondered on behalf of the missing sun.

I gawked at him, mouth yanked shut and eyes painstakingly open. I stared at him, which felt like eternity anyway, before I felt my dreary eyes close. No, he was just having cold feet. Especially shaken up after the ogre comment. I continued to delude myself with this thought, in the middle of the down-pouring cascades of rain, as Okita attempted to speak otherwise.

"I never wanted to break it to you, since we spoke about it before, but Heisuke, there's a chance he's-"

"Not. Another. Word." I gritted, opening my ferocious glaring eyes back up at him. Although he spoke of a queer sense of sanity, there was nothing holding me back from slapping him to his senses. I'd already paid the price of blurting out to Nagakura anyway.

Suddenly, he paused to hand me a perplexing look. He was utterly baffled at my temper. Was it foolish of me to get riled up like this? I felt my knuckles whiten with the right sensation. It was as if Okita couldn't comprehend exactly why I was giving him the cold shoulder, which led me to further clenching my jaw in bubbling fury that began to swarm up my neck. He was insinuating Heisuke was dead. He was a god damn comrade of ours, he meant something. He was our friend. And Okita... was being cruel.

"Why are you so stubborn, all the time? Is it because I'm telling the truth?" Okita blurted, leading me to believe that he always thought I was a yapping, annoying woman he was simply tied to. "Heisuke is dead. We've been wasting time. Kondou's going to have our heads, and I don't think he'll excuse even me , his younger adoptive brother."

When I pondered about it further, feeling his extensive hot stare pierce into me, perhaps there wasn't another solution. Yes, Heisuke could be dead. Claiming he was a Goryo-Eji meant the highest form of betrayal to the Shogunate and meant a death penalty, so someone would've had his head. Yes, perhaps Okita's sharp intuition was spot on. But... that was the exact reason he annoyed me. Why he hurt me.

My lips were already agape, parted with my abysmally obscured eyes locked on the wet pavement below me. "You're always like that..."

I could feel him begin staring at me, wondering what I was even ranting on about. However, I felt it. I felt exactly what I was realising all long. There was a reason to my outburst of anger - had I ever felt that way around Heisuke? Around Kondou? Around Aiko? Shiki? No. It was only him. There was a chance that he was truly after something else in this entire mission - why hadn't he answered my question straightforwardly before?

Why was he here?

"Never putting your faith in me. Always reserved, cautious and sarcastic; but always wanting to butt in a word or two of your opinion. I understand now..." there used to be a shred of guilt, maybe I was always a bad person for feeling apathy towards Okita and yelling at him. But I realised in those moments.

Slowly, I gradually made eye contact with him. But I didn't feel myself gazing dead-on with Okita. No, my eyes were reaching beyond his flabbergasted body rigid as ice as he felt my chilling, calm eyes reach him.

"You don't care about Heisuke. Not at all."

No enmity in my voice, for I was as calm as I felt when Nagakura drilled the information into me. Give me a break you wimp of a human. You abandoned Heisuke. That seething intel caused my delirious voice to reciprocate and resemble Nagakura on that particular day, which must've been the highlight of Okita's attention. He must've spotted it too.

"I'm doing this for your own good, for god's sake Chiara. Don't make this a constant thing for us. Listen to me, there's bad omens around Kogoe caverns. Everyone knows that, and you were losing your cool for the exact same reason." Okita responded flatly with his pearly teeth bared and shoulders hunched to deliver his icy words. But they all felt like perfect gibberish in my ears, unable to perceive them as I steeled my jaw and jerked my head up at him.

"You don't care about me... just tell me what you really want Okita. What is it that you want? You're cool like that. You always need and have a reason for everything. So tell me, what's the reason," I paused, exhaling my shuddering breath, "what's the real reason why you're in front of me, right now in this rain, and tell me why you're doing this?"

He seemed to be used to my constant words, dismissing my anger with his persevering demand for authority. "Calm down Chiara, talk rationally with me."

"You know what? Heisuke is more of a man you ever will be..." I found myself caught up in my own words that I desired to tell the man in front of me, that didn't include love. I felt his eyes widen, before casting them away in fury. Total fury.

"That's enough."

"Yes! It is enough. Yeah, you want to leave now don't you? After all that talk of nobility and intentions no one knows of. Even friends. Even lovers. Even family. WELL LEAVE!" I hollered, gritting my teeth to stop my hurtful words. Stop it Chiara please, but there was nothing stopping me now. "TAKE YOUR PRETTY FACE, AND SAD PUPPY EYES BACK TO THE SHINSENGUMI!"

The tears were staining my cheeks, but I didn't notice them until I felt my clenched fists reach Okita's chest. I was pounding them erratically into his ill chest, begging him secretly to talk to me. To tell me how he felt, to tell me how he was paining inside and needed someone, to tell me that he felt me close, even if our minds were worlds apart.

Alas, as my frantic eyes searched upwards to meet his own darkened, murky jade orbs, I realised they were locked on mine. The aftermath of my voice was still echoing in the shelter of the store, and the rain was pounding away above us; maybe I wished that it could drown away my anguished spirits and frustration, as Okita gave me his most saddened face he could conjure. Brow lifted, skin glowing in the rain, upper lip twitching as his eyes were concentrated on me. I think, I just hurt him.

But who could hurt a monster?

"Is that what you really want?" His voice was as soft as the lulling tide in summertime, yet the gravity was insane. Everything was spinning by so fast that I need to stop and shudder my callous breath. When I brought my eyes to eye-level, I realised for once he was touching my wrists, holding them close to his chest.

Had I ever told him why I wanted to follow after Heisuke? Why I was so intent on retrieving him? Perhaps it wasn't because of Nagakura, but rather my own selfish intentions. I deserved to die for it.

"I'm..." I glanced away, eyes pathetically wired shut to snare, "I'm never going back to the Shinsengumi."

He was overcome with surprise, noted by the way he tightly gripped at my wrists. Gingerly, I shook them off, as I felt him beckon me one last time.

"Chiara..."

"Leave!"

He winced evidently, glancing away with his hands retreated to his sides. Perhaps to garner more intensity, I amplified my tone, although I found myself more scared at the way I warded him. I was unlike before. I was changed. Nagakura was likely the reason.

"WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE TO MOCK ME?!" I yelled at the top of my lungs, which caused a voice break, even as my tears ensnared me whole. I was used to being hurt by Okita's hostility, therefore I took the momentum to ease myself off the foothold of the shelter, allowing my body to be caught in the crossfire of the rain. It soaked my clothes, baggage, feet and hair, though that perspiration wasn't much of an issue.

I didn't look back, even as I bolted into the heavy forest.

\- 13 minutes later

In the end, I was the weaker opponent and left. That caused me to laugh hoarsely to myself, for it was my utter buffoonery that never ceased to astound me. Thankful I wasn't mundane as I used to be, I began navigating the trek through the heavy long grass, silting through the vegetation with the tip of my sheathed sword.

The weather hadn't improved, for it was as ill as the situation before my demarcation with Okita. Each droplet of rain dribbled down my cheek, although I was secretly hoping for another ailment to nourish my cravings. Pausing to relieve my back of the weight of the sack, I began to rustle through the contents before fishing out dried rice, dolloping the the portions into my mouth whilst I suspended my lifted eyes into the woods.

All animals sought refuge away from the rain. To my left, fellow song birds took to nestling close with their family and were patiently awaiting the hatching of their eggs in future spring up in the sprigs of oak trees. Further to my right, I found some badgers in their hearth burrows that were to my knowledge, a set of intricate underground systems linking to the surface. At least, I noted with a curt nod, they stuck to their own kind. Maybe I needed a friend too.

However, as I proceeded to weave my body in and out away from the nettles or stinging ivy coiled around podiums and trees, I resort to seeking a cavern to shelter my own body from the cold. If I thought like an "ogre" maybe my mind would link back to the primeval and animal-like way I drove Okita to the corner and almost hit him. What a monster. I couldn't do so, I couldn't bring myself to do it.

There. It was as if my mind had clicked, my vision interwoven with my innermost desires. Hidden amongst the mysterious layers of coniferous trees, was a crack-like crevice stretching from one side of the mountain side, to the other, obfuscated by other dwelling groves. In any case, the negotiable consideration of its width wasn't particularly my interest; rather, the actual appearance of the cavern led me to recalling the wispy woman's fragile appearance breaking down in front of me. I was afraid that I was being too insensitive at the time, my desire to learn more greatly outmanoeuvred my empathy. I was becoming arrogant by each day.

I cracked a smirk, before slipping into the entrance of the seducing mouth. Heisuke was in reach, I could feel it in my bones. From there, was a drop that was slippery to my new sandal's soles, causing me to buckle when I slid tremendously until I fell with a clatter onto the flat-ground. It hurt for a brief second, but was dissuaded when my hunger to reach onwards led me to linger astray.

The floors were densely littered with sharp stalagmites protruding from the ground, stretching upwards to the cries of dripping ceiling pails of droplets. I shuddered, recalling how it was more slurred, graduated and timely unlike normal rain on the surface. This was different, and it throughly unnerved me. Eventually, my greater attention was strayed by the narrowing walls splitting into different tunnels that were too raven black to even gaze into. I was left to decide on my own.

Left was too favourable, thus ensuring me to gulp down any tentative fears that gripped at my nerves. I'd come too far to back down, especially thinking of Heisuke's sake. Maybe it was also a test of courage to Nagakura; do you ever think that rowdy man could ever settle his nerves and plunder down a cavern? I sure hope not.

The system of stretching narrow passageway led to a glistening pool of a subterranean lake. Illuminated by the straggly fissures in the ceiling, it was scintillating a glowering cerulean. I couldn't help but gape at the rushes of water flowering in a tranquil manner as it swam across the lake's surface, guided by a cascade of sprouts within the walls. The scent was heavenly, a mix of salty brews and heavy rocks. The actual river was translucent that dropped as far as a penny would go, regarding vision. It kept going, going, going and going.

And it scared me. I had to back away from the edge, realising that there wasn't anything to truly ponder at. Heisuke wasn't here, so there was a potential outcome that he could be found in the other path. Right? I was exhausted: could I sleep somewhere dry away from water?

I glanced up at the ceiling. I wish I hadn't done that.

I blisteringly gaped in petrifaction at the morbid bodies strung in meaty selections by the necks in the loose crags of stalactites. They were bent in horrific angles according to the shape of the zig-zagged rocks, and some of the fresher corpses dribbled from the tips of their pointed, limp, bare rotting feet scarlet hues of blood. So that, I noted at last, was the slurred, graduated and timely droplets which fell from the ceiling.

"O-Oh... Oh my god..." I gripped my nostrils and the other hand gripped my mouth, keeling over to throw up the amounts of rice i'd consumed from before. When my bouts of vomiting ended, I staggered out of the narrow passageway constricting me of fresh freedom, especially how my heart lurched at the idea of having to go the other way. No, please, god, not another way.

My curiosity was my demise. When I found myself trailing out of the left tunnel to reach the original crossroad, I began to raise my eyes up at the ceiling once more. In those particular area, was an outstretch of human infants dangling from the ceiling, some barely intact with their skulls hanging from alien angles away from their original bodies. Others, were decomposing corpses that were littered at the entrance of Cavern Kogoe, as the name gave away the truth.

I felt their whispers, their souls latch onto my back as I walked away from them. I had to make a break for it. Heisuke wasn't here, Heisuke wasn't here. I pleaded to myself on wit's end, eyes threatening to bulge as I gripped at the foundations of the walls for leverage. Similar to an elderly man, I sought support from the rocks until finally the light of day above me seemed to be out of reach.

Meandering until my thoughts resided in returning towards the surface to relish in the precipitation of the dreary dismal village, I had to pause for a moment. That dripping sensation finally left, until only a silence fell over the cavern. No sounds of bats flapping their wings in flight; only the sounds of my hammering heart beginning to quickly build up pace. I stopped. I turned around. I felt everything build up to that exact moment.

When my eyes matched the beast creature looming more than 10 feet above me, with those savaging eyes.

Kogoe. I only heard whispers of my heart beginning to race.

At first it was strange. I felt myself slowly dwindle my gaze at their flaxen yellow beady eyes locate my trembling figure below them, wondering if they were an oversized goat instead. Judiciously sensing my fear meant the scarlet-tinted skin of the creature began to radiate in pulsating joy. Everything about the beast caused me to yearn for another bout of vomiting; from its putrid breath of musty rotting flesh, to its swinging underbite of a jaw reaching to their flared nostrils. Its golden hopped ears were flayed outwards in an elf-like fashion, but its meaty pot-bellied body didn't suit the appearance of a beautiful elf. It was a horrific hell-dweller.

How could it be possible? The profuse sweat that dribbled down my forehead and scathing my jaw was utterly aggravating; I had to make a break for it or else it would use that horrific spiked club to break and grind my bones. I announced a vow of silence.

It was garbed in a single faded loincloth, strong calves bulging with addled ulcers and formidable tumours stretching on its heels. Toe nails turned inwards to dig at the ground, and its colossal shoulder blades were littered with oddities of warts, incantations, and reddish flared skin from rashes. Everything about the grandeur foe was enough to break the human will, for its strength was resonant even as it watched and awaited my every move.

For a split second my adrenaline taunted me to make a break for it whilst I still could. Tip toeing with my quaking toes attempting to curl into the ground, hoping it would swallow me up while away from the sinister creature creating in the shadow of god's image. Its beady eyes were rheumy as well as crust-lined, following my nimble steps as I frantically bounded up the steps to freedom.

Run, run. Don't look back.

The mighty creature thumped its gargantuan feet against the foundations of the cave, causing the infrastructure to shake with an almighty below. My thoughts strangely turned to my idle body rigid in frozen fear, as I began to bite down on my tongue. I had to ease this fear or else the creature would engulf me, as it croaked a monstrous wail from its flared nostrils.

I was frigid in place, as I couldn't eradicate the stirring horror within me. I could die any second, envisioning the way it would use inhumane instruments to rip my flesh apart. Quickly, I stumbled and landed on my jaw across the ground, groaning in elicited surprise. It hurt... but for reasons unknown, my thoughts lingered on my sister. She, or whomever her identity was now, could stare at my body from her platform and laugh scornfully at me.

I was a sad excuse of a Samurai, so entangled in my own legs that my limbs seemed to quake with cold goosebumps. I sought shelter in my own hunched shoulders, cowering beside a cluster of rocks that I previously landed upon.

Each ground-swallowing eruption of noise created by the moaning red-faced beast was enough for the theory to conjure in my head; rather, if I stared long enough at the ceiling, its lose foundations would became brittle and fragile, meaning an accident would form. I prayed, prayed and prayed that would be the case, as I curled up beside the rocks.

Deftly, a loose crag landed in front of my nose. T'was only inches away from my face, therefore leading me to shuffle in frantic reflexes to thump my body up against the wall. Then another appeared, dust flickering off its moderating body. Then another. Another another, until I was only inhaling musty fragrances of powdery substances; I choked, burrowing my head into the corner of my rain-soaked elbow. Perhaps this was my end, fleeing from a demonic sprout, failing my ultimate quest of joining Heisuke, and shattering my bonds with the only friend I had. If only I stopped Heisuke... If only I was kinder to Okita.

A lone tear pricked my eye, trickling but pausing at my cheek. Unsure if it was from the dust and rubble tumbling down all around me, or the deprecating thoughts tied to my body.

In other situations, maybe I would've been strong enough to repel the forces of the universe attempting to murder me. Bare it with a smile, and have a will strong enough to say enough: I will live. I will live.

"Do I even want to live...?" I bemoaned, resting my head wearily over my bruised shoulder, a dry sob venturing out of my throat. I cried a lot, on my own, crying meant that things seemed more fairer than they actually were.

I closed my eyes, awaiting my inevitable perishing, from both ogre and avalanche.

\- seconds later

I jolted my eyes open. The surroundings were dim and clustered, for it took a few seconds until my fatigued eyes grew accosted to the darkness. I was trapped against the wall, back slammed on the ground with my vision hasty; when I found that the layers of powdery rubble and debris clinging to my draughty nostrils, only then had I truly looked up.

There, limp arms flung outward and wrapped around to cushion my torpid body, was the appearance of a badly wounded man. Blood streamed from their slender neck, resulting in their sable clothes stained a cuddling shade of deep horrific red. Their shoulders, which were caved inwards and masculine at first, were wobbling and shaking with only a leverage due to their outstretched feet from behind digging deep into the cavern's granules of soft soil. I could depict their agony, despite the fact I was outwardly gaping at another morbid realisation; teeming rocks were digging into his rigid spine, and I could slowly begin to comprehend just how much weight had crashed on their poor frame. They were shielding me from the aftermath of the avalanche.

It was a burning burden as genius as infanticide. The cavern had collapsed, yet this man... whom bore eyes of murky jade, rubbly upper lip quivering as benign as the wind, and a face so beautiful... that as his crystallised tears streamed down his dirt-riddled cheeks, I could only weep myself and ponder why such a gentle creature of nature was being ripped limb by limb from the strain of such barbaric torture.

A terrifying tremble was stimulated at my already injured thumb, twitching as I began to deny the man's identity. My heart lurched. Stomach dropped faster than a penny down a well. All events before began to rush into my blood-neglected head, feeling light headed as I shook my head with fearful, animal-like bulging eyes. No. No. What was happening?

Why am I being abused like this? The dribble of the man's tears eventually fell upon my bewildered face, but I was so scared I couldn't even reach out to wipe it off tediously.

"O-Okita...?" I wailed in lamenting disbelief, sputtering as the musty air ran down my throat.

Laboriously with a dejected shudder as he groaned from the flurry of extreme pain daring across his shoulder, his mouth shook as the hoarse words weightily left his lips.

"Are you... okay?" He whimpered, before breaking off into a fit of raspy coughs. His tears were still fleeting from his eyes, hiccuping voice bubbling to the surface once more, "are you... safe?"

"Okita... what have you done?" I let out a heaved sob when my strangled voice was muffled by the compact space shared between us. I couldn't breathe.

He left out a noise of administration when he realised I was still alive; the sigh of relief was unlike anything I heard before. Happiness. Grief. Daunting sorrow at the fact someone still had to see his crippled body. He searched my eyes, a desperate twinging at the edge of his forced voice.

"I was so worried you died... you didn't open your eyes. I'm so sorry... so sorry for being a heartless man..." he flippantly groaned when a rock seemed to dig at his back, frantically slapping a palm at my cheek in response. I didn't realise it at the time he was using the best of his depleted energy and control over his severed nerves to brush his sooty thumb over my tears. To wipe them.

The action caused me to hitch another wail at my windpipe, for all those crude words I ever told the man began to stab me in the back. You monster. Stop looking at me with those eyes. You don't posses empathy. You don't care about Heisuke.

You don't... care about me.

My response was an amplified exclamation, and a vile attempt of shaking my head in declaration.

"You need to live Okita! Why did you come after me? Why... why Okita?" I screeched when I rolled my head to the side, exhaling out sobs that lasted for another moment. It took eternity. I felt his laboured breath cling to my skin, as he enunciated with a curious stare at me. His eyes were always on me, as if nothing in the world held any significance unlike telling me how he felt.

"On that day... when y-you went for Heisuke to save him from the S-Shinsengumi's... grasp... I f-followed you too. Even as you were disobeying orders, even as I lay bedridden at the time when I saw you from my window... you saved him." He paused with exerted effort to inhale a breath, his crushed rib cage evident by his little gasps. "And I realised... I was selfish, because I loved seeing you like that. So pure, happy, passionate."

His face began to drop with sacred horror, brows lifted as he pleaded innocence with me.

"I didn't mean to make you miserable. So... Please, forgive me. Please... this is all happening because of me. Don't blame yourself." He concluded, thereafter binging a silence that was rattled by his swaying arms twitching repeatedly. I couldn't bare to watch him in that condition: being so honest as if he were accepting his demise.

"Don't talk like that Okita, please! Let's get out of here together," I retorted with a heave; I couldn't release myself from my entrapment, due to my bag's sling was stuck under a loose boulder beside me.

"I'm sorry, that i'm going to leave you alone. Because... I can't go on anymore," he struggled to explain to me that his body couldn't handle the boulders piled on his weakened shoulders; if he struggled enough, one bone would snap. He would tumble, and the whole lot of boulders would also cascade and crush his body and mine too.

I grasped ahold of his shoulders but winced when a rumble ensured above us on the surface; had the troll or ogre awakened? On the other hand, Okita attempted to fester a determined facade by screwing down his brow at me, though it only resulted in a fearful grimace. His eyes lifted to my left, as he gestured with his eyes towards a small hole of freedoms conjured by a gap between two colliding clusters. It wasn't adult sized.

"Go, out of that small opening," he ushered with his small voice ringing low.

"I'm not leaving you." I firmly implanted, my forehead accidentally pressed against his pale chin. I felt from an unknown location, his soft heart hammering away like a fickle new-born puppy in his chest. Beneath his skin.Or, a dying puppy, on the verge of meeting its creator. I regretfully closed my eyes, which were moistened with tears, to escape those petrifying thoughts, "I love you, and I know what's best for you."

"I like... hearing those words. You told me those before long ago... tell me them more please." He stammered with a sense of longing. Pain then elicited at my forehead which was pressed against his chin forcefully, as I realised his eyes were closed in a way that suggested he was biding his time. Or that time had already come for him.

"SNAP OUT OF IT! DON'T FALL ASLEEP — DON'T GO AND LEAVE ME ALONE!" I screamed in livid paranoia like a winging child cursing the world for its unfairness , at the thought of being left alone in the dreadful cavern with only vengeful spirits whispering and latching onto my back. Calming myself, but mostly Okita's frightened jolt, I assimilated a sigh, "trust me, depend on me Okita... You know I can't ever leave you, even if I tried."

"Fill me... with nonsensical nothings, Chiara..." he murmured into my ear.

"I WILL SAVE YOU!" I screeched over and over again to drill into his head, attempting to making him realise this was not his end. He had to live on. He had to make his older brother proud. He had to get back to work with the Shinsengumi. Like he said... right? He had to beat Tuberculosis, it was his destiny...

"Forgive me..." he breathed another tired breath.

... So why was he dying beside me?


End file.
